The Rain Can't Hurt Me Now
by Sparrow Quill
Summary: FINISHED Aletté has had more than her share of heartbreak in the form of Will Turner. Now headhunted for her lineage to the Spanish royalty, Will and Jack return to help thier old friend but things do not go exactly as planned... WillOC, please R
1. Prologue

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Disclaimer:

As much as I hate to say it, I do not own Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Gibbs, The Black Pearl or any other Pirates of the Caribbean articles. These belong to the Walt Disney Company © and I am using them without permission. I can do this legally because I do not profit from it. As for what I do own, I claim to own only those characters and articles not mentioned above.

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Author's Notes:

Concerning Historical References:

I am perfectly aware that this story is anything but historically correct. It is so inaccurate because one I am to lazy to do much research and two the real history of Spain grossly conflicts with my story. So, on a sharper note, this is a work of fiction. Although it has mentions of the country of Spain, almost all political characters, events, structures, and details have been altered in the interests of the story.

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Concerning Prequels, Sequels, and Everything In Between:

This is a sequel to _Swordplay_, which was in turn a sequel to _The Diary of Morgan Land_, which had a prequel called _A Profitable Affair_, but don't be scared! All of my stories were written to stand alone, as an independent unit, not as a series or a volume in a series. So in other words, **_you can understand this without reading the others!_**

All you need to know is that Aletté fell in love with Will, but he told her (very gently) that he had an obligation to his wife (Elizabeth) and son (a baby named after Jack). So, Aletté left and was bitter towards Will. Another thing- Aletté wants to kill her father for leaving her mother. Also, Jack has a girl called Morgan, and they are very much in love, though Jack is still his same old cheating self.

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Concerning This Prologue:

If you hate boring prologues, I'll summarise it for you. Basically, Aletté is the heir to a throne she doesn't intend on claiming, and people who want her inheritance are trying to kill her by putting a bounty on her head. That is the catalyst for the story. Other than a bunch of complex-sounding names and places, that's this prologue in a nutshell.

Enjoy! On with the show!

Prologue:

Aletté Malycho could not sleep. She could never sleep nowadays, after hearing the whispers and mutterings that she had. Her hair rustled, wedged between her head and pillow, stiff with the juices she used that caused it to turn an auburn brown. Her only disguise. Outside her window, the Singaporean nightlife was dying down. Her bar was closed, her door was locked, her window bolted shut.

And yet she felt unsafe.

But the source of her night time fears was more tangible than one might expect. She was not simply jumping at shadows. She really _did_ have something to fear…

It all began with King Rico of Spain. Rico was a kind, loving man, a gentleman to all who knew him. But even gentlemen have their fair share of enemies. Rico was getting on in his years, but he clung to the belief that the daughter of the house of Malycho would someday come to claim her throne. And so he refused to sign the king and queenship over to his nephew and niece-in-law, Devante and Madeira. This angered the couple, and so they took to drastic measures.

In secret, they sent out word that anyone to find the long-lost Lady Malycho and bring her to them (dead or alive) would be given six Spanish Galleons, a position in the Spanish Armada, and three hundred pieces of silver. Quite a reward for any lowlife pirate or smuggler.

But what Devante and Madeira feared- that is to say, the return of the heir to the house of Malycho- was something they should not have bothered with. Aletté, the true heiress, was living alone as a Singaporean barmaid, barely caring about her high-ranked lineage. The only thing she cared about was getting through another day, trying to bury her heartbreak deep down inside her and move on. She didn't want queenship, wealth, power or authority. She only wanted closure, the one thing she couldn't get.

Devante and Madeira thought there plan was foolproof- what heiress would have anything to do with the lowlifes, the scum of society?

Aletté, however, was working as a barmaid amongst those very characters, trying her hardest to earn a decent living. And because of this, whispers passed her ears, whispers of a plot that was never intended to reach her. A plot to kidnap her. A plot that would ultimately kill her.

That was why she had disguised herself, dyeing her hair a dark shade with juices and cutting it to shoulder-length. She spoke in a fake Irish accent, and called herself Aletté Turner.

And for a while, this seemed to work. Nobody recognized her. Until one rainy day in Singapore, when a strange, dark-eyed pirate ventured into her bar looking for a friend of a friend…


	2. Sparrows Return In The Spring

Jack walked slowly through the bar, glancing around for a petite blonde working as a barmaid. He was half-tempted to take up a drink for the night and resume his search tomorrow, but the rain outside had managed to quench all that remained of any thirst for liquids. Even alcohol had lost its charms. Tonight was for searching. He eyed the counter and saw a few girls working. There was a tall black-haired one, a brunette, and a girl with curly blonde hair. Aletté, as he remembered, had dead strait hair. He glanced into their faces from across the room. The brunette looked somewhat familiar, if only she'd turn his way… Yes! It was her!

Aletté scrubbed determinedly at the filth that lay in the bottom of the mug when she felt a persistent tug on her sleeve. She turned around and almost dropped the heavy glass, her mouth agape as she stared into the dark brown kohl-lined eyes.

"Jack!" She managed. "What can I get you…" And in a much lower voice. "And what are you doing here?"

The pirate smiled devilishly. "Just want a little private moment in the back." He winked.

Aletté shuddered. "You are filthy!"

He raised his hands, a look of false innocence crossing his face. "Just to talk."

"You swear?"

"On me unborn child's soul. Just to talk"

She smiled and motioned for him to follow her into the back room. Once the door clicked shut, she turned to him chattily. "Morgan's with child, Jack? Really?"

"Aye." He fiddled with a broken wine bottle.

"So…" Aletté prompted. "What's taken you across the Indian Ocean to talk about?"

He smiled again. "Just a matter of some prize on your fair little head."

She grasped a dagger from underneath her petticoats and pointed it at his throat. "I swear, Jack Sparrow, if you think you can collect on my life, I personally will send you plummeting to hell."

A daft grin spread across his face. "Then I'll be happy to meet you there, darling. No, indeed, I am not here to stab you in your ever refined back." Aletté frowned and lowered her dagger slowly. "I am here on behalf of my dear Morgan. She seems to think you'd be safer with us in a house in Port Crowne than in your pirate-serving brothel."

She rolled her eyes. "You _are_ horrible."

"You coming, then?"

"What?"

He grabbed her wrist slyly. "You coming with us on the Pearl?"

"You mean-" She laughed sardonically. "You mean just give up everything and come sail away with you to another world where I can watch Will and Elizabeth fall ever deeper in love? Lord, Jack, I think not!"

"Actually," He began. "Will and Elizabeth-"

"Please leave, Jack." Aletté seemed serious now. "Please, for God's sake, just go. I'm not leaving."

"No?" He fished inside his jacket for something and held it out to her. She surveyed the package. It was a battered old letter, weathered by sea and storm. "This is from Morgan."

She snatched it from him and unfolded it. In loopy, confidant handwriting, it read;

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My dear Aletté,

We've heard of your predicament and I am horribly worried. Please, go with Jack. You can come back here with us for a while. At least until the troubles blow over. I would love for you to see baby Jacky- he misses "Lettie" as he calls you. I'm sure Elizabeth would be tickled to have you back. I would.

You really must be here for my baby's birth- I want you to be godmother. Please will you come? It would mean the world to me. We are already planning everything, and the nursery is almost ready. I miss you terribly, though I'm sure you had your own reasons for leaving. 

Jack has missed you too, though when you read this you will have seen him already. Do take care of yourself, dear Aletté. Please go with Jack.

Your Friend Forevermore,

-Morgan Land

She glanced up. "Not Morgan Sparrow, Jack?" He shrugged. "Hmmm…" She paused. _I've left before. Maybe leaving would be an idea. _"I'll think it over. Until then, you're welcome to stay here."

He smiled and placed his fingertips together. "As much as I would love to oblige, darling, I have matters to attend to on me ship." He paused. "Then again, it's been a time since I've seen a woman, save for Meryl, but she acts more like a man anyways, that one."

"No Anamaria?"

"She got herself a ship o' her own… been off plundering last I heard. Good pirate, she be…" He let his voice fade into memory, jumping back to reality with a start as Aletté cleared her throat. "Yes, well, should be going then. Me crew will wait a day only. You can make up your pretty little head in a day, now cant you?"

"Aye." She nodded. "Come back tomorrow, Jack. You'll have your answer."

She watched as he turned and left the room, leaving Aletté to her decision-making. _I left out of the blue once before, and Danielle and the girls kept the place going. They can hold the fort. Maybe…_

Do you want to see Will again? A voice asked her. _No, no you don't. You never want to see him again. You're through with him. Going back, even for a little while, will bring it all back._

Or, came another thought, _perhaps this will give me the chance to banish my daemons. Perhaps now I will be able to move on. Perhaps I will not care for him any more. And if I don't go, wont I regret it?_

Yes.

She closed her eyes, wondering why exactly she was doomed to such an uprooted, drifting lifestyle.

"Danielle?"

A curly-haired blonde girl made her way over to Aletté from the bar. "Aye, Miss Mal- Miss Turner?" She stammered, remembering in the nick of time to use Aletté's alias.

"I Have business to attend to in a foreign land. I trust you will be good enough to hold things down until I return?"

Danielle looked confused, but nodded finally. "Aye Miss Turner. We've managed it before now, haven't we?"

Aletté smiled and nodded. "Thank you. I leave tomorrow, but I'd like to take an evening off to pack up if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Miss Turner." Danielle turned and headed back to her post at the bar.

Aletté sighed, pulled her apron off over her head and headed out into the rainy Singapore night, shielding her hair with her hands to keep the dyes from running. By the time she reached her apartment, her skin was stained with the dribble of eggplant and grape juices. She retched, disgusted at the stickiness that coated her. A bath was now in order, no matter how much she might despise them.

She lugged the barrel of rainwater across the room and placed it next to the feeble flames that adorned her massive cracked marble fireplace. While the waters heated, she slipped out of her wet clothes, hanging them to dry on the grate, and coaxed a little more dye into her resilient and stubborn once-blonde hair. By the time the barrel was warm enough to bare, the drizzle outside had transformed itself into a full-on thunderstorm. She grabbed a glass of water to replenish her parched tongue, then slid into the barrel that now served as a tub.

Her mind dissolved with the dye that covered her skin, and she felt her muscles relax for the first time that day. Baths, she noted, worked in much the same way as alcohol- soothing and blinding at first, then slowly wearing off, until you were left with nothing but cold water and bitter depression. But she resolved to pull herself from the waters before the depression of cold set in.

She wrapped herself in a warm rag-braided rug that she used as a towel, and then slipped a muslin nightdress on over her head. Her clothing was all kept in a large, bulky trunk, but was barely one quarter full, so she stashed her outfits in a weathered old carpet bag and proceeded to assess which items of value could come with her, and which would be hawked on her way.

There wasn't much that could be hawked- she had many things of curiosity in her tiny apartment, but few could bring much on a market price. So she resolved to take everything except the furniture, which she would rent to Danielle along with the apartment. Danielle was always looking to find a nicer residence than her brothel with the other harlot's, so Aletté's apartment would be a welcome change.

_Plus, _Aletté reasoned,_ I can trust the girl._

She lay her stiff haired head down onto the pillow of her rod-iron bed and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to come. But the sandman is a slippery creature, and by the time she'd found slumber, Will Turner was in her dreams, breaking her heart all over again.


	3. The Secrets We Keep

Wow! This story has taken off with quite a bang. Seven reviewers in one night! *does happy dance* Well, replies are at the end of the chapter, and I have a little note:

Aletté is in Singapore, not Tortuga.

That was in the last chapter and was a typo. Much apologies, and I will correct it when I have time. Until then, just know that for continuity sake. Thanks Erin!

*sings*

Let the drums roll out, let the symbols ring, let the people shout, hear the marshal swing! Dance honey, sing honey, on now with the show honey!

***

Jack glanced up from his compass to see a wiry-looking young woman making her way slowly across the pier, heading for the Pearl. He smiled. He had known she would come. Morgan was very persuasive, even in letters in lieu of personal contact. A smile flickered across his face as he began to enjoy the many levels such a comment worked on. He grabbed hold of a loose rope and swung himself down, narrowly averting the gangplank.

"Miss Malycho, wonderful to see you." He swept her a mocking bow.

His cordiality was met with a slap in the face. "Idiot!" Aletté hissed in his ear. "Don't use my real name in public!"

"Right, right." Jack fumbled for a cover-up, then whispered back to her. "What name would you have me use?"

"Tur-" Aletté caught her breath, not wanting to tell him that she had been using Will as her alias. "Swallow."

"Ah," He smiled, noting the distinct similarity to his own surname. "Wise choice. Now, luv, lets come aboard, aye?"

She smiled and walked herself up the gangplank haughtily, as a young and naïve aristocrat would carry herself in a pigsty. The ship looked much the same as the last time she had seen it, the same woodwork, sails, crew…

Not quite.

Someone's face caught her eye from her peripheral vision. She turned around and nearly dropped to the deck, her mouth hanging open in shock. It was Will. Her first instinct was to be sure he couldn't see her face, though it was plain as day that he had. Aletté had been recognized. This was all Jack's fault. She spun around and nearly snapped Jack's head off. "You didn't tell me _he_ was here!"

He raised his hands innocently. "Is there a problem between the two of you, Miss Swallow?"

"Miss _Swallow_?" Will asked, wondering at her new surname. 

"_Shut up_!" She snapped, surprised that she suddenly felt angry at Will. Not lovesick, not depressed, angry. This was new, and she felt stronger for it. She rounded on Jack. "You knew he was here, and you didn't tell me? Argh! You're, you're horrible! You knew!"

"Quite the contrary." Jack pointed out. "I haven't a bloody clue what the hell you be on about, so if you'll excuse me…" He ducked around her wiry frame, but she caught him by the knot of his red bandanna. "Argh! Ouch, luv, your jerking on me neck."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She shook him angrily. "You knew! You knew and you didn't tell me! You're a filthy liar!"

Jack winced. "Please, luv, did it ever…" He gasped through her choking grasp. "did it ever occur to you that maybe… maybe I have no bloody idea what you're on about?"

She paused to consider his words, then released him and turned on Will. "What are _you_ staring at?"

Will took a timid step back and bit his lip. "Aletté, what happened to you?" She was so different now- apart from her once fine blonde hair now being brownish and frizzy, she was snapping at everyone at every possible opportunity.

"Whadya mean _what happened to me_?" She spat. "What, don't you remember? '_People come into your life and people go_.' Well guess what, Will? I've _gone_!" She spun on her heel and headed for the only place where she knew to find solace and privacy- the captain's quarters. She jerked open the dark, warped doors and barricaded herself inside, plunking down on the counter that edged the window.

Not a moment later she realised she had been followed.

"Now that wasn't very nice." Jack chided the sulking young woman. "What was all that about, darling?"

"Leave me be, Jack." She warned darkly.

He sat down beside her and wrapped her in his arms slyly. Aletté didn't bother resisting- anything was better than Will. "Tell ol' Jack what's troubling your pretty little head, darling, and perhaps I'll repay you by… oh, say, letting you experience the true pleasures of being on me ship. What say you to that?" He nuzzled his nose into her hair and enjoyed the scent of a woman- something Meryl took great pride in depriving any man except her late love of. 

Aletté scowled and squired uneasily in his arms. "Oh please. Do you really think that's a viable bargaining chip?"

Jack thought for a moment. "Well it's not as if you wouldn't enjoy it, luv." He waited, and after getting no response from the petite lady in his arms, he continued with a less cocky approach. "Awe, come on luv. We've always been close, haven't we?"

"Well this particular closeness isn't exactly of my choice." Aletté mumbled.

Jack ignored her. "What's wrong with Will that nobody's told me?" He thought a moment, then winced. "He's not a eunuch is he?"

Aletté couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't a giggle, it wasn't light-hearted, more malevolent than anything else. "Will and I have a past together. And a falling-out. That's all you need to know."

This intrigued the amorous captain further. "Ah, I see. Flings with the married boss never pan out well." Aletté was silent. "Well, there is a little something about the lad you don't know, exactly. He and Elizabeth-"

"Please." She interrupted. "Just leave it be." She didn't want to hear what she was sure was coming next; he was going to tell her about them- their son, their happy lives. That they were so in love, that they perhaps now had a daughter too. She shuddered.

Jack just shrugged. "Your loss, luv."

And he did not press the subject further.

***

Will tossed and turned, mumbling uneasily in his sleep. His sweat-drenched body stirred uncomfortably as he tried with little success to banish his nightmare… his memory.

_Elizabeth was sitting in the parlour, her hands trembling and fidgeting with her taupe sateen handkerchief. She glanced uneasily at her husband wearily. "Will?" He looked up. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about… do you mind?"_

Will set down the candlestick he'd been designing and turned to face her attentively. "Yes, darling?"

"It's just, well… I know you've worked very hard to pay for our house here and I respect you for it. You're a wonderful provider-" He smiled. "-but the problem is-" His smile vanished. "-Jack knows where to find us here."

Will frowned. "Since when was that a problem?"

"Well," She stammered. "its not that big of a problem but… but…" Her tactfulness fell down to desperation. "I hate the sea and all the time you spend down at the harbour, and this whole pirate thing- I just want to live on land, raise a family and grow old with you. I don't need this!"

Will was shocked. "What?"

"I don't need this, Will!" She repeated, angrier the second time around.

"I do." Will murmured softly. How could she ask this of him? How could she ask him to give up what he loved so dearly?

"What?" A dangerous, spiteful look crossed Elizabeth's face.

"Listen," Her husband reasoned. "when you married me, you knew I loved the sea, and I knew only that you had an adventurous spirit. I committed to love you for that, and just because you're my Elizabeth. But you have to love me for who I am too."

She stared at him fearfully. "Then who are you- what's the sea to you, Will?"

Will chose his words carefully, but truthfully. "The sea is in my blood, Elizabeth. The sea is who I am." He waited for her slow, meditated reply.

"Then," She began. "Well, then I guess I… don't… love you."

Will felt his feet fall out from under him. Not literally, more figuratively, but he couldn't have felt more pain had he been plummeted from the highest wall of the fort onto cracked marble and jagged rocks. "You don't?" He croaked feebly.

"No." She said flatly.

Will shot bolt upright, dashing his head against the bunk overtop of him. He muttered a mild oath under his breath and rubbed his throbbing forehead. When he was younger, he would sometimes have dreams of being chased by a dragon, or being impaled on a spear by a savage medieval knight. He would wake crying and his mother would come rushing in with a kiss and a kind word, assuring him that it was only a dream.

This wasn't a dream. This was far worse than any kind of dream.

This was a memory.

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Review Replies-

Bulletproof Dork-

Don't hold your breath too long- I have three stories on the go at once here and it can get pretty hectic. Glad you like it and thanks a million for reviewing!

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Lizard-

Yes indeed I stole the title of the story from "A Little Fall Of Rain" in Les Miserables because I couldn't think of a better one, and lets face it, that was one hell of a good song.

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Cecile Li-

Glad you like it and thanks for reviewing!

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divinething-

I will update Swordplay and Baird's Battle soon- actually, I just updated Baird yesterday, but please be patient with me. It is exam week after all. Glad you like it and hope you keep reading. Thanks!

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Erin Richards-

Aletté is my second-favourite character, because… Well, I'm not really sure actually. Yeah, Jack as a father, there's a riot for you! Thanks for correcting that- dunno what I was thinking there with the Tortuga thing- she's in Singapore! I'll fix it ASAP (which isn't all that soon either!)

I love castle on a cloud- I'm auditioning for young Cosette- mostly because I have big eyes and a kiddie voice. Now if only I wasn't so tall…

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PLEASE REVIEW!!!

-SQ


	4. Voyage

Well, here lies the longest chapter I've ever written. God, I have no life. And now to start Moratorium week and stop posting for a little while. I just wanted to get this story off the ground first. Ah well, whatever. I'll put one more _Swordplay_ chapter up very soon.

Please and thank you for reviews!

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Aletté felt her like forehead was on fire. She sat up slowly. Someone was panting in the far end of the galley. At first she thought it was Jack- Jack and Meryl more like. But as it quieted, as the weariness of it flooded away, she realised it was one of the crew. Someone having a bad dream, probably. Why would Jack sleep in the galley anyways?

Her feet found there way to the floor and stumbled up the steps to the deck. It was dark. It was cold. And something else. She retched as the dyes ran down her cheeks.

It was raining.

There was nothing stormy about tonight- no waves, just calm ocean and a soft breeze. The rain was pouring down in soft patters on the wood of the ship and the glassy surface of the ocean. It was almost calming, the weather. Like it was in sympathy with her. She smiled contentedly.

Her eyes began to droop and a wave of fatigue washed over her.

_This is pathetic, _she thought. _I cant sleep down there, I cant stay awake up here. Pa-the-tic. _

She raised her jacket high above her head to act as an umbrella. It cradled the water, weighed down, and poured out over her shoulders. She needed an extra two hands to keep the water off her, and thus came her resolution to just ignore the rain and be wet.

It didn't last long.

"You're going to get sick staying out here." Came Will's voice, accompanied by Will's arms atop her head that was now a disgusting cross between brown and blonde, leeching dyes everywhere. "Come back inside."

Aletté snorted. "Since when did you care about what happens to me?"

"Aletté, please, there's something you don't know-"

"Oh shut the bloody hell up, Turner. Does it _look _like I care what you have to say?" He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off again. "If you followed me up here because you haven't seen your blessed Elizabeth for months and you desperately want to get lucky-" Will was sure she had the wrong idea about him there. He just didn't want her to fall ill. "-then you've got reality on a skewed angle there! I'd sooner sleep with Jack- at least he _knows_ he's a lowlife, unlike you, who act like a saint but treat me like dirt between your toes!"

"Aletté," He began. "you don't know what you're-"

"Oh shut up."

And she disappeared into the rainy haze, heading back to bed.

***

Aletté sat on her bed, biting back tears. Why did she have to come back to all this- this pain, this torment? Leaving the first time had been punishment enough- why this? She closed her eyes and it all come flooding back…

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Her brown leather boots clattered across the clean-scrubbed cobblestone walkway as she ventured up towards the Turner Manor, as it had come to be called. Elizabeth had given her the evening off from her constant babysitting of Will and Elizabeth's son, baby Jack, and she was just returning from a twilit stroll. She wound her way up the stony mosaic path towards the atrium, enjoying the peace that came from Port Crowne at night time.

"Taking the evening off?"

She whirled around to face Will, his wavy brown hair hanging down about his face, skin smeared with soot from the forges at the smithy. A smile spread across her face.

"Miss Elizabeth gave me leave." She said, moving closer to him. "Little Jacky was asleep." She reached up and rubbed at the black soot off of his cheek playfully. "You're all dirty."

Will didn't smile back, but took her hand and gently brushed it away. "The forges can make messes sometimes." He didn't want her to kiss him again. Kissing her just once had been an accident, a faithless act of adultery. A horrible mistake. He didn't want to re-make it.

"Will?" Aletté frowned. "Is something wrong?" She reached up to stroke his hair and again he pushed her away, roughly this time. "Will?" She massaged her wrists, where he'd pushed her, and glanced up at him worriedly. "William?"

"Aletté," He didn't want to look at her. "I have a son, and he needs me. I have a wife, and I love her! She's my reason to wake up each morning. I don't even like being a blacksmith, but I'll do it for her. You have to understand… I'm sorry, but I-"

"You said you loved me." She croaked in a half-whisper. "You said you'd provide for me." This was too painful to bear.

"I'm sorry, Aletté, I just-"

"You lied to me!" Tears seeped out from under her eyelids, sliding down her cheeks with a salty sting. She turned away, not wanting him to see her cry. Suddenly she felt his arms engulf her from behind in a brotherly embrace.

"Aletté, people come into your life and people go. Certain things happen for a reason. You just have to trust that life has a road mapped out for you."

She stared up at him, tears streaming down her otherwise flawless skin. "I think you'll understand, Mr. Turner, if I ask you to send for Jack while I wait for him at an Inn."

"Aletté," He pleaded, "You can stay here. You can-"

"Please, just send for the damn ship!" She wriggled free of his arms and took off down the pathway towards the Inns at the waterfront. 

Will didn't love her, he didn't want her love. He wasn't going to care for her. She had been a fool to think life could get better. The life of Aletté Malycho was doomed. If what Will said was true, if life had a road mapped out for her, then hers was leading in a downward spiral, sinking lower than hell.

_I've worked the streets, _she reminded herself. _I've sold myself. I'm already as low as I can get. There's nowhere left to fall when you hit the ground. _

And I've hit the ground.

Dear Lord, have I ever.

***

The ship sailed uneventfully for just over a week. Aletté had never known such sheer boredom- at least when she had been on The Imprintor- the time she had first met Will- there had been other women there to keep her company. Now, with only Meryl as her female companion, Aletté was sure she would die.

Take today for example.

She had cornered Meryl in the 'ladies galley' (actually just the corner of the ship cordoned off with a bed sheet or two) and attempted to strike up any means of intelligent or at least amusing conversation.

"So," Aletté said casually, "you stayed on with Jack?"

"With Jack's crew." Meryl corrected. "Jack is nothing to me."

"Oh?" Aletté raised one eyebrow. "So who _is _something to you?"

Meryl brushed past her companion, avoiding her eyes. "You don't know him."

"Does he have a name?" Aletté teased. Surely Meryl could tell her something.

"Sure." Meryl said flatly. "His name, as far as anyone but me is concerned, is tombstone 7463 in Port Crowne harbour." She smiled sardonically, inwardly biting back a torrent of tears.

Aletté felt the pit of her stomach drop out from under her. "Oh I'm so sorry." Meryl fell in love- and her man died? _Nobody tells me anything_, Aletté grumbled in her head.

She spent the rest of the day consumed by something that was a mixture of pity, pathos, and curiosity. Meryl was so distant with everyone that Aletté knew the chances of finding out just who she'd fallen in love with were very slim, but she couldn't help wondering…

"Aletté, about last night, maybe you misunderstood me-" It was Will. Again. _Guy doesn't take a hint._

"Will," She spun around to face him dangerously. "don't ever use the phrase 'about last night' around me, okay? Now please, excuse me-" She shoved past him roughly, aiming to bruise his arm but almost entirely certain she'd done nothing of the sort.

She was about to put her foot on the first step that lead down to the galley when a hand caught her arm roughly. "Darling?"

It was Jack.

"Aye, captain?"

He plastered on a fake smile and pulled her towards his quarters discreetly. Once the doors had successfully alienated all but a few dim rays of light and removed all sounds of the outdoors from the room, he turned to her pleadingly.

"Aletté, luv, you've been hurting poor Mr. Turner's fragile little heart quite enough, wouldn't you think?"

She glared at him. "Well when I get even for what he did to my _fragile little heart_, I'll stop. Does that please you, captain?"

Jack wrung his hands, frustrated. "Darling, maybe you should do us a favour and just _tell me what the bloody hell is going on between you and me first mate_!"

"He's your first mate now?" She laughed. "He's a pretty sorry sailor."

"Maybe when you knew him. He's improved." Jack sighed and gave up the cause. His eyes turned to her puke-coloured hair. "What happened there?"

Aletté blushed. "I ran out of dyes- you don't have an old hat or headscarf do you?"

He smiled genuinely for the first time that day and pulled a familiar floppy, wide-brimmed hat out from a chest of drawers. "This, you may remember."

Aletté nodded and pulled it down over her forehead. It was Anamaria's old hat- how Jack had come to own it was beyond her- and it camouflaged her face just perfectly. "Thank you, captain."

"You know," Jack mused. "You're the only person on me ship to remember me title properly, and you're not even part of me crew. That's damned odd stuff, luv. You have to agree."

Aletté just rolled her eyes and left.

***

_He was home early. A day early- almost a day and a half. She would be pleased with him, he could tell. He fixed his tricorn hat and quietly made his way upstairs to Morgan's room. She was sleeping._

He slid his way into the bed with her, and was suddenly aware of her stirring awake. She rolled over and smiled at him sleepily. "You're early."

"Aye." Jack smiled. "That I am."

He gently massaged her neck, but stopped as her hands took his and guided them further down her body, finally resting on her abdomen. She smiled at him dreamily. "Can you feel a heartbeat?"

Jack had been told by many a woman that he was soon to be a father, and always it had been a disappointment followed by a stinging slap in the face. But this feeling- this was new. He felt like he could just jump up and take on the whole world himself.

"Morgan, luv, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

She nuzzled at the crook of his neck. "What do you want to name it?"

He smiled. "Well, lets see. If it's a boy, then William."

"Uh huh." Morgan nodded. "What if it's a girl?"

"A girl? Oh, right, a girl, hmm, well…" He thought for a moment. "What about Molly?" The name of his first ship. He'd liked that ship. It was a nice name, too.

A strange look crossed Morgan's face, somewhere between absolute sorrow and complete adoration. "Oh Jack," She cried, "you're the most thoughtful man on earth!"

And before Jack could even begin to wonder what in God's name she was on about, her arms were around his neck and her lips lustfully on his. When the kiss broke- roughly and reluctantly as it did- Morgan lay her head on his chest and said; "Oh Jack, my mother would've loved to see her granddaughter named after her. You're so thoughtful." She paused. "Thank you."

He smiled. He could hardly believe his luck there. He hadn't even remembered what Morgan's late mother had been called, he had only cared about his old ships and past ventures, and yet fate had somehow been on his side. 

How lucky was that?

***

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Review Replies:

Cecile Li-

There are two flashbacks in this chapter, and one gives a little itty bitty bit of Aletté/Will history. Glad you like the author's notes. Also, if you really want more history, try reading Swordplay (my other PotC story on the go right now.) It gives a lot of background info.

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divinething-

Jack is a cheater, a player, so he's smelling Aletté because he just doesn't have much commitment in him to begin with. And as for Meryl's love-life situation, I hope this chapter cleared things up a bit. Oh, and Morgan is pregnant so she's at home in port. I thought that was inferred from the note, but maybe it needed a little more specification.

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Erin Richards-

The word eunuch is just so funny. *giggles* You wrote some of the sequel? *does happy dance* Oooh! I cant wait! Yay! I will try with the audition thingy, but big eyes kind of make me look like a bullfrog. Oh well, cant have everything right?

Thanks for reviewing!

blueglass25-

Glad you like pissed off characters- I do too! Well, no, that kind of depends, but you know… Well, I'll try to update frequently, thanks for reviewing!

PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE? *goo goo eyes* PRETTY PLEASE?

-SQ


	5. Heart Of Will

How did Amy find time to update today? Well, lets just say her science teacher gave her all period to study, and chemistry actually makes sense now. So, I indulged in some guilt-free writing of my favourite story (actually I just wanted to write this part- Baird is my favourite!) and kick back to some les mis tunes. Oh what a sad, boring life I lead…

"Empty chairs at empty tables…" God, Marius is cool.

On with the show!

*sings* Who am I? I'm Jean Valjean!

***

The ship weighed anchor just offshore from Tortuga, having sailed a solid two weeks without stopover. Only a few crewmen were left aboard; the first mate and quartermaster, by tradition, and the doctor as well. Aletté and Meryl chose to venture ashore together, because, as Meryl was quick to point out, "Those women who have walked Tortuga streets alone battle bad memories, and those who have yet to would do well to take a lesson from the tormented." In short, it was a Noah's Arc mentality- you travel in pairs or you don't travel at all.

As the nightlife stirred itself up and the men who lay wasted in the alleyways shook off their hangovers for another go at sleaze and debauchery, Meryl introduced Aletté to several old acquaintances; mostly harlots, a few barmaids, and an innkeeper. As midnight past and wore away into the first hour of the morning, Aletté expressed through a yawn her desire to return to the ship. As Meryl did not seem to hear, being busy as she was with her old friends and liquor, the former resolved that she could make the short dash back to the harbour by her lonesome. Nobody noticed her leaving.

The streets of Tortuga seemed bustling with life. Everyone had a place to go, a person to see, a bottle to empty, or a dress to unlace. For a while, it seemed, nobody bothered with the young Spanish lass who walked herself briskly towards the harbour. She kept her head down and her pace quick, but one can only go unnoticed for so long…

She had reached the dock, and could see ahead of her where the rowers had been dragged up onto the beach. She felt in the clear. Home free. _I made it._

Or not.

"Why good evening, young missy." A deep voice crooned from behind her. It reminded her, slightly, of a more slurred, sensual version of Will, though she thought the better than to turn around and face he whom had dealt the salutation.

A hand pawed at her shoulder and she shrugged it off, breaking into a run. But her follow through on her gut reaction had come a split-second too late. The man grabbed her blouse with both hands and whirled her around, forcing his lips onto hers. She scratched his face and at clawed him, but he crushed his chest against her body aggressively. His lips let off of hers for a moment, giving her a few seconds leave to let out a blood-curdling scream. Suddenly she was on her back, and he on top of her. She sobbed and kicked at him with all her might, but then, she had never possessed much might to begin with. 

"Shh, hush now, missy. Just do what I say, everything will be alright." She retched. His breath smelt of rum and another stench she knew all too well, though not all too fondly. He pawed away at her chest and thighs despite any and all of her resistance. And then, just as she had prepared herself for the gruelling worst, he was jerked off of her. She sat up timidly, and for the first time in a long time, the sight of Will's face was absolutely welcome.

Will. Her rescuer.

He jerked the man away from her violently, anger releasing itself from his heart in violent punches. It was only a matter of seconds before Aletté's assailant was lying motionless on the gritty filth that was Tortuga's soil.

Will made his way over to her and gently helped her to her feet, fighting back the urge to just sweep her up into his arms and protect her from the world and everything bad that was in it. Instead he reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks with a calloused finger. "You okay?"

She nodded, shock still tying her tongue.

"Come on," Will placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and one around her waist. "Lets go back to the ship."

He helped her into a rower wordlessly and they began the journey rowing back to what was the safest place for them in this port of insanity and lawlessness. When they reached the grand, beautiful vessel, neither had yet spoken. Will guided a still shaken Aletté down to the galley, assuring she was comfortable. She sat down on her bed and burst into tears.

No sooner had this happened than Will had engulfed her in his arms. She buried her face into his chest. He seemed so… solid. Like nothing would ever break him, like he really _could_ protect her… provide for her…

She suddenly realised what she was doing, and a second later she had shrugged out of his embrace bitterly. "I'm fine now." She said, biting her quivering lower lip. "Thank you, Mr. Turner. I can take care of myself from here on."

He didn't move. "Aletté, you really need to listen to me. There's something I have to tell you- something important that I think you should know."

"Why?" Aletté hissed cynically, all her gratitude at being rescued dissolving back into the same old animosity.

"Because I don't want you to go on believing something that isn't true." He waited for her eyes to lock with his. "Please? Just listen to me- just for a moment?"

She sighed. "Fine." She really _did_ want to know what it was he had to say, but refusing to listen was one of the few powers she still had over him. At the moment, though, she felt so indebted to him for saving her from those 'daemons' Meryl spoke of that listening seemed fitting. Just the once.

Will smiled. She was being reasonable again. She was being herself again. He cleared his throat. "Maybe you should sit down." She did, and he followed suit, seating himself on Meryl's bed, which was situated directly across from Aletté's. "A little under a year ago, Elizabeth and I-"

"Will!" Jack rushed down to the galley, his face looking drained and pale. He was out of breath, and his slight raunchy suspicion at finding Will and Aletté alone together in the bowls of the ship was overpowered by a stronger, much more desperate feeling. "Will, we have a problem."

"Jack?"

"Captain." He corrected characteristically, still panting for air. "Port Peridio… was attacked… by the Spanish Armada… looking for the heiress… they thought she was there already…they took prisoners… many of them…" He paused, finally subduing his breathing to a few raspy gulps. "They took me Morgan. They took Eliz- well, erm, they…" He stammered. "Well, they took…"

"Elizabeth?" Will gulped. Aletté could see the strain in his eyes. He feared for hi wife. She felt a surge of resentment because of it. "What should we do?"

Aletté glanced from Jack's blank stare to Will's equally unhelpful face. She knew exactly what to do. It was summoning the courage to do it that was the real problem. 

"We'll go to the Capitol." She heard her voice say, though it did not feel like she was the one saying it. "We will go to the state prisons and Jack, you and Will will free your… wives." She wasn't sure whether Morgan and Jack were married, or even still together. Their relationship was so melodramatic. "I'll find my way into the palace, and they'll be so preoccupied with me that the escape of a few prisoners will not trouble them much."

"And then we'll come rescue you." Jack finished confidently. "We sail at dawn!" He raced up onto the deck in his most dramatic 'I-am-captain-do-what-I-say' manner. Aletté turned back to Will.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?"

He looked as one might look when shaken from a trance. "Its just… Aletté…" He felt numb. Elizabeth was taken. Elizabeth. That meant his son too. His son. And Elizabeth, to whom he still owed protection and provision. "Its just…" He felt like someone had taken his voice away. "Just…"

"It doesn't matter." Aletté snapped indignantly. "If you don't want to tell me, just say so. You don't have to treat me like I'm a child." She whirled around on the ball of her foot and stalked from the galley angrily.

Will stood and stared after her. This girl was such an puzzle to him. One minute she was willing to listen, the next she was ready to snap the head right off of his sorry neck. _She may be a stubborn enigma_, the thought, _but at least she's my stubborn enigma._ He shuddered. The thought of another man taking her against her will made him coarse with a pure concentration of hatred. It had just been luck that he had seen it all and gotten there in time.

Luck, or maybe something else. Just maybe there was another force out there drawing them progressively closer together.

One step at a time.

***

****

Review Replies:

divinething-

Ha ha, Meryl as a mother is almost as amusing as Jack as a father. Interesting, though…

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Britt-

I hope you enjoy the back stories if you read them. They really give a lot of insight into who the characters are. Yes, I know Aletté is being stubborn, but give it time. She's a little nicer to Will in this chapter- patience! Soon, very soon now…

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Cecile Li-

Swordplay isn't really very focused on Will- its very Jack-ish. I have honestly never read a Will/OC fic that I remember, but I will be sure to tell you if I find a good one.

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Blueglass25 (who didn't want to sign in!)-

The Will/Aletté history was almost directly copied from the prequels (lazy me!) but their relationship isn't really a focal point in them, which is why I wanted to develop it further in this new story. I'm sorry if Aletté seems a little stubborn, but its all for literary purposes! Don't worry- it works out!

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Erin Richards-

Amazing? *happy dance* Ti-hee, I loooooooove praise! *more happy dance* I update when I have spare time- which is a testament to just how un-time-consuming my schedule is. Amy's life- get up, got to school, do work, come home, do vocal exercises, read Les Misérables, go for a run in the freezing cold, sing some depressing death scene tunes from les mis and, well, as they say, the rest is history. But it is very easy to fit stuff in around that.

Well, at least lassie's pretty. And bullfrogs can be… interesting. At best. Oh well. Though I'm told if I stand sideways and stick out my tongue I can be mistaken for a zipper. I don't know, I was just told…


	6. A Long Awaited Revenge

Wow! This chapter started off really bad but now is actually one of my favourites. It brings William and Aletté just a little closer together- and has beautiful Jack to get in the way. Well, its past midnight, so on with the show!

Review replies are at the end of the chapter- but then, you knew that already, didn't you?

***

The voyage from Tortuga to Sierrbo, Spain, where Aletté said the prisoners would first be taken, was long, uneventful, and above all things, tense. Meryl shunned the world from around her, shrugging off all conversational opportunities with mutterings of "7463" and glares of ice. Will, who was quite close to giving up on telling Aletté anything at all, was growing accustomed to her out-of-place bursts of irrational anger. And in the centre of it all was a very unconcerned Jack.

Jack kept his mouth relatively shut, which was a pleasant change for some, a pressing concern for others. He would spend his day at the tiller, staring ahead of him in a zombie-like trance, holding his steely gaze at level with the emptiness of the horizon, as if daring it to never show him Spanish soil.

The horizon, however, can be swayed with time. Just over one week had passed into the voyage when the white beaches of Spain rose up and speckled the grey-blue waters. Aletté, who had been ignoring her pressing fears at returning to her homeland, was beginning to feel a new sensation; whereas before she had been afraid of pain, torture possibly, but not death, now she felt her emotions had reversed. She could bear pain, perhaps, and it did not trouble her to suffer. What she would miss, silly as it was to say, was Will. Fighting with Will. Seeing him every day, pretending not to need him.

_I've done it now, _she would tell herself_, I've ruined everything. I've let myself fall in love with hating him, with punishing him. I've let myself cling to something- Good God am I in love again? _

No. No I am not.

I am.

Not.

In love…

Never!

Denial, denial. You're head over heels in…

Insanity! Daftness! Dementia! Fever, monthly cycle pangs, hallucinations… Oh good God anything but love!

Admit it.

I will admit nothing.

You are in love!

I am not in love with that stupid, arrogant, toying, lying…

…beautiful, caring, kind, gentle…

…conniving, abusive, absolutely horrible-

-God amongst men!

Dear Lord am I talking to myself?

And then she would shake her head and resume whatever it was she had been doing. Any crewman who glanced her way would have no way to tell what she had been thinking, and so nobody ever thought to ask.

Except Will. He saw. What precise internal battle he was witnessing he could not have guessed, but regardless, he could sense something was wrong. But to ask was to make things worse than they already were, this he had learned from experience.

"Aletté?"

And she would jump from her trance with a start. "_What_?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh drop the act, Turner, like you care."

She would shove past him and find something else to occupy herself with. It did not take genius to see something was wrong, but only Will paid heed, and he himself being the problem could not aid in finding a solution. 

By the time they reached the shores of Spain, Aletté and Will had held a silent contract of ignoring each other. The ship docked in a small port far from Sierrbo, so as not to cause a stir. Will, Aletté and Jack went ashore, while Gibbs and Meryl had been instructed to wait two weeks in the small village before sailing to Sierrbo to pick up the Captain, First Mate, and others.

Jack managed to commandeer himself a stagecoach and thus began the most tedious and mind-numbing carriage ride any of the three had ever partaken in. Between Jack's mutterings of what revenge he would take on those who wronged his woman and unborn child, Will's pleading for Aletté's understanding, and her subsequent snapping at him at any possible occasion, the ride had proved to be irrefutably monotonous.

At night, Jack, Will, and Aletté sprawled themselves out uncomfortably over the seats, not caring who's foot was jabbed in whose ribs. Had the lady traveller been anyone but Aletté, this arrangement would have been looked upon as totally indecent. For Aletté, however, her days of prostitution from the age of fourteen until she was twenty made such a predicament seem like peanuts. By the time they reached Sierrbo, all three travellers had only rumpled clothes and stiff necks.

They spent the night in a shabby Inn room that contained only a double bed and a musty old sofa. Jack took the liberty of claiming the sofa for his own, which left Aletté and Will with an uncomfortable night next to one another in a bed that could comfortably fit one person, though it could theoretically fit two. Will was able to lull himself to sleep eventually, though Aletté slept scarcely an hour the entire night. Wills body would press against hers, and she would shiver and sweat at the same time.

When morning finally decided to grace them with its presence, Will rose first, glad to get out of the awkwardness that had consumed his hours of rest. Jack awoke only moments after him, and the two friends drew up the day's plan. The prisons were their first destination. They spoke at length on how they would manage to infiltrate the dungeons without arousing suspicion, and as Aletté's name was mentioned, the latter began to wake.

At first she heard only fragments of conversation. "…find her a disguise… could pass for a woman of high birth… do the snooping for us… good idea…"

"What's the plan, boys?" Aletté mumbled into her pillow, sleep still fogging over her eyes.

Jack raised his eyebrows as his eyes trailed over her bare shoulder where her blouse had come loose and slipped down almost to her elbow. Her skin was ochre and smooth, her arm very slender and graceful. He pulled his stare away, reminded of his vow to at least try at fidelity, and glanced over at Will. The kid's face was hysterical.

His brown eyes were locked intensely on the woman before him, as if he'd never set sight on a female in all his life. His chest was rising and falling more gawkily than usual, a sure sign his breath had quickened.

Aletté blew a puff of air out through her lips, sending her blonde-again hair billowing off of her face in untidy strands. She glared at Will. "What are _you_ looking at, Turner?"

He shook his head to break the trance that had been holding him. "N-nothing. I'm not looking." 

Aletté snorted. "As if you're not looking."

"I'm not." Will said, trying to sound matter-of-fact but only succeeding in making his voice very hollow and satirical. "I wouldn't have a reason to. Why would I look at you?" He gulped, his attempt at confidence most observably an act. "Don't have any reason to look, Aletté. Couldn't find you more unattractive. Nope. Ugly to me."

Jack snickered. This kid was a riot. 

Will held Aletté's gaze a moment longer before breaking the strange, unspoken argument between them. His eyes shifted back to the captain, who sat pensively in the corner, observing the young couple with intense amusement. "We have a plan then?"

"Aye." Jack smiled and nodded to Aletté, who was only now beginning to re-tie her blouse. "Now, Miss Swallow over here" Aletté smiled at his remembrance of her alias, "will make her way to the dungeons to visit, erm, lets see… her uncle. Yes, she's going to visit her uncle, savvy?" Both Aletté and Will nodded in chorus. "Aletté, luv, you'll scout out Morgan and the others, and report back to yours truly as to whereabouts we find them when inside the prison. _Then_ we work out our plan in detail. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Aletté tied her blue bandanna on over her hair and pulled the big floppy hat on down about her ears.

"Wait." Will stammered.

"What?"

"You cant go into the prison like that!"

"Why the hell not, Turner?"

He looked her up and down sceptically. "You're in breeches and a men's blouse. Your hair is ratty and matted. You expect to pass for a lady like that?"

"A common lady, yes." Aletté retorted coolly. "I'm sorry I might not fit the standards of your lovely high-bread Elizabeth, but in case you didn't notice all we have is the clothing on our backs."

"But-"

"Listen to the lady, mate." Jack interrupted. "She knows what's best. Women always do." Aletté smiled at him. For once he was taking her side. She felt endeared to him. That is, until he added, "Except in matters of bed. Now Aletté, darling, you cant deny your poor ol' Jack, can ya?"

Both Will and Aletté glared at him icily.

"I'm gonna shut me mouth now." He muttered.

***

The Spanish prison was filthy. It reeked of rotting beings and human filth, and everywhere the floors were smeared with excrement, vomit, blood or worse. Aletté walked daintily through the rod-iron gates, peering around with a very timid glance at the rows upon rows of cells. Everywhere lay dying and decaying men, but nowhere could there be seen either Morgan or Elizabeth.

"Can I 'elp ye, Missy?" A gruff voice came from behind her. She turned around to face an old sentry with a two-day beard and a cutlass in his left hand. He looked something familiar to her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was in his face that was so memorable. "Ye lookin' fer yer uncle, ye said?" The man had traces of a Singaporean accent in his speech, though it was well mixed with his Spanish tones.

Aletté nodded. "I can find him myself, thank you."

The sentry eyed her suspiciously. "Now, wha's a pretty little dame doin' hidin' under a big ol' hat like that, Missy?" Before Aletté could stay his hand, he reached up and pried the hat from her head. Her strait, golden locks flew down about her face. He stared at her intently for a moment. Then a little light seemed to flicker on in his eyes. "Yew! Yer the daughter o' that little whore!"

Aletté gasped. "I beg your pardon?"

He scowled. "Yer tha' spoiled little countess's daughter, aren't ye? Aren't ye?"

And then the light of understanding, which had already dawned in his mind spilled over into hers. The Singaporean accent, the familiar face, him calling her mother a whore- why, the only men who had known of her mother's out-of-wedlock pregnancy had been her grandfather (her mother's father) and…

Her father.

Her father who had abandoned her mother on the streets of Singapore while she was still with child. Her father who had forced her mother into prostitution just to make ends meet, who had subsequently been responsible for the hell that had been Aletté's adolescence.

"You knew Annabelle Malycho?" She croaked, her voice strained with excitement and shock.

"Knew her?" He laughed maliciously. "Wa'nt a man here who _didn't_ know the little slut. Was just me bad luck _I_ knocked 'er up. Let 'er fend for 'erself, spoiled little brat that she was. Needed to learn 'erself a lesson. Little whore needed-"

"MY MOTHER WAS A _DECENT WOMAN_!" Aletté hissed, fury boiling up in her voice like a hurricane as it gathers out over the water. "DON'T YOU _DARE_ SPEAK ILL OF HER YOU MAN-WHORE, YOU DESERTER, YOU _BETRAYER_! YOU _RUINED MY LIFE!_"

And without thinking, she did what she had always promised herself she would do if she found her father again. It was like a reflex, imprinted in her mind by years of hate-filled meditation. She snatched the cutlass from his hands and buried it deep into his heart, leaving yet another bloodstain to mark the floor. And then, just as two more sentries had ducked their heads in the door to see what the commotion was about, Aletté wrenched the blade from her father's heart and made a mad run for the door. The guards, momentarily stationary by shock, did nothing to detain the fleeing woman. By the time they had come to their senses, Aletté was long gone, heading back to the Inn by every side road and back alley possible.

She still clutched the bloody cutlass in her hands. The blood of her father. Half of who she was, was dripping out onto the streets of Sierrbo, Spain, staining the cobblestone a dark shade of crimson. She tore through the hallway, up three flights of crooked stairs, and burst into the door.

Jack must have gone out. Only Will was in the room. His eyes darted from her shadowy, imposing face to the tainted weapon in her hands. "What- Aletté? Who- how? Why?" He stammered.

She sank down onto the bed, closed her eyes and let the sword drop to the ground. Tears began to push at the back of her eyes. How could she tell this to Will? He who had probably never felt hatred, never killed out of malice, never born a grudge against a fellow human being. How could she explain this? She knew only one way. He would have to understand this way.

"My father was a sentry at the prison."

He stared at her, the look in his eyes turning from confusion and terror to pity. "Your father?" She nodded. "Oh God, Aletté, I… I…"

"There's nothing you can do." She turned to face the wall. She didn't need pity to get through this. I don't need anyone.

_I need him._

"Yes there is." Will crossed the room and took her in his arms gently, burying her head against his chest. She sighed and let herself melt at the sound of his heartbeat, steady and calm against her. He was so warm…

"Thank you." She murmured into his waistcoat, inhaling his scent and memorizing the feel of his body against hers. _I need him._ She felt his lips caress the top of her head. His breath on her neck, his hands travelling up and down her back. He was going to kiss her. Any second now. _I need him._

The door swung open and Jack entered. He paused mid-stride, hands poised in the air, a characteristically ridiculous and yet pondering look on his face. "Am I interrupting?" His gawking strayed to the cutlass lying abandoned on the floor.

Aletté wrenched herself from Will's embrace bitterly. "You're not interrupting anything…" She searched for a change of subject. "Morgan was not in the prison. They must be keeping them up in the garrets of the Countyhouse."

Jack looked at her quizzically. "And whom, darling, did you so recently thrust in?"

Aletté met his eyes coldly. "My father."

_My father._

As if that explained everything.

Jack simply shrugged. He would get the whole story from Will later. Begging details of Aletté was a fool's errand. "Right then, we'll be sending the two of you in to the Countyhouse tomorrow. But ye'll need proper clothing to get in there… Will, you understand that junk, you figure it out." He snatched a few pieces of silver off the nightstand and headed for the door. "Well, I wont stay in the way. I'm off to drown me sorrows in a bottle of rum… or whisky, or whatever it is they serve here." And in a blink he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

Will turned back to Aletté. "We need new clothes."

"Aye."

He held his arm out, bent at the elbow. "Shall we?"

She smiled at him genuinely for the first time in a long time. Her arm slipped into his and fit there so perfectly. His warmth made her feel a little giddy, a little light-headed, the way a great final cadence makes a musician leap for joy. And they headed out arm-in-arm to a back alley street, to buy themselves a disguise.

***

Review Replies:

Erin Richards- 

Flawless? *blushes* Well, that is FAR from the truth. You are way too nice in reviewing! Insult me for Pete's sake! *laughs* Well, um, ok, I'm tired. It's half past midnight and I was only up because this chapter was fun to write. WORK ON THE SEQUEL! PLEASE? *begs on bended knees*

Cecile Li-

Glad you're so enthusiastic.

Untypical-

Yeah, I know. Jack as a father may suck, but I wanted to give him a bigger motivation for saving Morgan than just "getting the girl." Glad you like Aletté- contradictions are fun! *laughs*

Lizard-

Ok, um, daemons are like problems. Well, yeah, I hope you got that.

Elentari II-

Well, I just wanted Elizabeth gone so that Will wouldn't seem like a floozy. I don't know, maybe it was abrupt. More about Meryl? You don't have to tell me twice! Thanks for the review!

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PLEASE REVIEW!

-SQ


	7. Love, Lust, and Bitterness

And another chapter written at midnight. Man, this is getting sad. Thanks for all the great reviews, especially to those of you who reviewed my Les Misérables fic- you guys are the best!

***

Aletté spun slowly before Will's entranced eyes, her blue chiffon skirts rustling quietly. "Well?" She asked, her eyes alight with genuine happiness. "What do you think?"

"It suits you." He said, unable to pry his gaze from her tapering waist and graceful arms. To say it suited her was the epitome of an understatement; in her sky-blue rumpled skirts and fitted bodice, she looked like some unearthly goddess.

Aletté had been happy today. Today with Will. They had been just like a pair of old friends, hitting the town with what little they had, laughing, joking, having fun at Jack's expense. Nothing bitter, awkward, passionate, or lustful had come between them. Not once.

"Aletté?" Will was serious now.

"Aye?"

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you." He paused. This had to be worded just right. To say, in such a nonchalant way, 'Elizabeth is out of the picture, you can be my sloppy seconds' would demean Aletté and all that she meant to him. But then, to sob and blubber that Elizabeth was gone would only aggravate her rare good mood. He needed to put this exactly right.

"Well?" Aletté prompted impatiently. "Spill it, then. While we're still young." She was eager and curious to hear what it was he had to say, hypothesizing that it would be something along the measure of their relationship. Would he say that he loved her?

Will gathered his thoughts, cleared his throat and began. "It's about Elizabeth."

Wrong answer.

Aletté's good mood evaporated, along with the smile that had been on her face. "Oh _lovely_!" She cooed sarcastically. "Lets all talk about _Elizabeth_ now! Beautiful, high-born, wealthy, perfect Elizabeth."

"Aletté," Will tried. "Please, just hear me out _for once_!"

"Look," She spat, tearing at the chiffon lacing that fastened up the front of the bodice. "if you want advice, or to brag, or whatever else men talk about their women for, you can wait for Jack to drag his drunken, amorous arse back here and then you can gush you bleeding heart out but please don't try to make a listener out of me." She wrenched the dress off, baring her sleeveless under dress. "Just shut it about Elizabeth!" She pulled her blouse on over her head and tightened the leather laces, turning away from Will to find her breeches.

"Aletté for the bloody love of God will you just stop acting like a spoiled monster for just a minute and _listen to me_?"

"Why?" She yelled, all the bitterness and malice that had permanently installed itself in her heart surfacing again. "So you can tell me you love _her_ and not me, that you have a son and a family and the life I could never have? I know what this is really about- this is about my being a prostitute isn't it?"

"What?" Will scoffed. "No- of course not! I've known that since I met you-"

"And since you met me you've been leading me on! What- you think that because I've had a loose past I'm just some toy, some men's plaything? God, I thought maybe you had more liberality- you think I'm _unclean_, don't you?" She struggled into her breeches and tied the belt untidily.

"No, Aletté- not in the least! That's not on my mind at all!" Will grabbed her arm as she started for the door. "Aletté, you're not even giving me a chance to speak- you cant tell me I'm narrow-minded if you wont listen to what I've been trying to tell you!"

"Fine!" She snapped. "_Tell me_. See if it changes anything." Her eyes danced challengingly, a dark fire burning within her.

"Aletté," Will released his grip on her arm. "just around a year ago, Elizabeth and I had a talk about our, um, our vocations. About the sea, and land, and… well, you've heard it before." Aletté nodded. "Well, Elizabeth wasn't very tolerant of sailing and life on a ship, but I stand by that it is in my blood. It's who I am. So, we decided that-"

"That you would give up who you were to please her, yes, Will, I know you're a saint and a martyr thank you for rubbing it in my face." She rolled her eyes. Her voice changed to a sort of hollow sarcasm. "And the moral of the story is never fall in love with a married man. The end."

Will frowned. "Fall in love?"

Aletté replayed her last words in her head. _Shit._

"Well…" _So much for thinking before I blab my big mouth around_. "I meant… well… not that I mean _I'm_ in love, I really meant to say-"

"Got the disguises?" 

It was Jack. He had made his way through the hallway without their noticing and was now surveying the pair of squabbling travellers with a touch of innuendo in his dark brown eyes. The two felt his gaze like the heat of the sun in the desert. Will ground his teeth and glanced around self-consciously, Aletté felt strong colour rising in her cheeks.

"Well," The captain prompted impatiently. "do you have the bloody guises or not?"

"Right, those, yes." Will stammered, reaching for Aletté's dress where it lay, in a careless heap in the floor. The apparent hurriedness with which the dress had been cast off did nothing to dispel the suggestive glimmer that now lighted Jack's face. "Well, here's Aletté's, and I found a cleaner waistcoat. We'll be able to blend in well enough."

"Aye, grand, grand." Jack said distractedly, his gaze slipping over to the beautiful blonde heiress who stood beside him. "Aletté, luv, you wouldn't happen to have any more coins stashed away in your bodice, darling, now would you?"

She snorted. "No, and if I did, I wouldn't go giving them away to a man who will blow them on wine, women, and song."

He smiled back contemptuously, despising this lady's sharp wit and feisty disposition. "I've never liked song, darling, 'less its coming from Meryl, and women I've been quite turned off of since meeting you." Will snickered in the background. "As for wine, never cared for the stuff. Redundant, superfluous drink. Find more alcohol in highborn Britain."

Aletté sighed. "What money have we left now, then? We need to eat tonight."

Jack glanced over at Will, who returned his blank stare. The captain locked eyes with the heiress and said very quietly, "I think you'll be getting a wee bit skinnier now, luv."

She scowled at him, then, as if resigned by premeditation, turned to the foggy looking glass and attempted to neaten her appearance a little. This achieved, her hand flew to the doorknob.

"Where are you going?" Will asked, suddenly realising that she was leaving.

Her reply was barely audible as she disappeared down the dim, twilit hallway. "To earn myself some money."

Will turned to Jack. "You think she means selling herself?"

He shrugged. "What else would she be doing?"

A desperate look crossed Will's face and he made to race after her, only to have Jack's hands take hold of his arm and yank him back forcefully, causing him to trip and stumbled backwards onto the floor with a sound thump. "Let the lass be, mate, or take her all the way. Ladies like Aletté don't like you mulling your time in the middle."

Will rubbed his neck gingerly. "I still haven't told her about Elizabeth." He muttered.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "No?" Will nodded and sat up, his back aching with bruises. "That's interesting." He paused to think. "So then I gather you two haven't…" He motioned suggestively with his hands.

"No, we haven't…" Will retorted, mimicking Jack's gesture clumsily. "Why, you think we had?"

Jack shrugged. "She _is _a bar whore, mate. There's something to be said for that."

Will frowned, as if this news had completely blindsided him. Just the 'is' had gotten to him- present tense, and he knew it, too. She was selling herself right now- giving her body away to anyone who would pay, not caring that she was the most beautiful woman in the world…

Will stopped, intrigued and puzzled by his thoughts. He tried to mesh through them, but the thought of her giving herself away like that kept seeping into his mind's eye. Her 'clients' wouldn't appreciate her- to them, she was just another flavour-of-the-moment, not to be remembered, only to be paid. They would not even bother themselves to learn her name, nor to be gentle with her body, to respect her intelligence and her fiery personality, to stop and admire how stunningly her green eyes caught the starlight… He couldn't take this. He couldn't sit here and wait for her to return. His conscience would not let him.

He grabbed his coat from the musty wooden floor and headed out the door, not bothering to explain to Jack where he was going. Jack, however, did not care. He had expected this- hell, he'd been _counting down _to it, giving Will barely a minute to play the hero. And now the room was all his. He lay back on the bed, closed his eyes and dreamt of what he would do to Morgan the first night he got her back…

Wills eyes scanned the courtyard that lay smack in the middle of six grungy inns, one of which currently housed him himself. He couldn't see Aletté- it was too dark. In fact, all he really _could_ see were several scantly clad ladies who were approaching him, a seductive gleam on their faces. Will tried to ignore them and look elsewhere. His hand instinctively travelled to the hilt of his sword, and he gripped it tight. It gave him a false sense of security, but false or not, it was comfort.

He was standing right under one of the few streetlamps in the courtyard, so that anyone, from anywhere around could spot him in an instant, though he could barely make out the faces of those standing five feet in front of him. Suddenly a slender female figure broke into the circle of light that surrounded him, hurtling herself towards him and into his arms.

Aletté.

She was breathing hard, the same way she had been when she had entered the hotel earlier the same day. Her eyes, though, were dry. This time she was not crying. She simply buried her face in his chest and said, though the sound was muffled by the fabric of his waistcoat, "I cant do it, Will, I just cant. Not again, not again… I cant go back to that life."

He felt his arms instinctively draw her closer against him. He felt her pleasured shudder at his touch, and then he felt head move a little as she raised her eyes to his face. She stared at him intensely for a moment. This need for him, this desire was more than she could handle. She couldn't bear any other man's touch when she thought of him. Being around him, but denying herself him was like being two inches underwater and unable to breath. She wanted his touch more than anything else. Her entire body was coursing with a desperate and terrible longing for him. And there was no denying it now. There was no use in pretending…

"Will," She breathed, "I want you to have me tonight." He stared back at her, no words escaping his slightly parted, heavily-breathing lips. "I know you cant pay. I don't want you to." Her gaze was locked with his. "I want you to bed me." It was said. There was no going back. She closed her eyes and waited for him to say, in his gentle way, that he cared for her, but that he had a wife, and a son. She braced herself for his familial embrace and comforting eyes, his words of 'I cannot give you what you seek.'

They never came. No words came. Will could barely breathe, much less speak. He had been expecting the harsher Aletté who would yell at him for trying to impede her search for clientele. He had found, or rather been found by, the Aletté who wanted to just lay in his arms and be loved by him. And he wanted to love her. To _make love _to her. But somehow this just wasn't right.

She did not know that Will had no Elizabeth, and something about that made bedding her tonight not right. She had to know, she had to have time to decipher what it meant, and now was not the right moment to tell her. Not when she was vulnerable.

And even if she did know, could he take a woman out of wedlock? He didn't want to- didn't want to risk getting Aletté into the same fix that her mother had found herself in all those years ago. She was too precious to him. Too cherished. 

He stared at her for a long, thoughtful moment, then gently took his arms down from around her trembling form and took her hands in his. "Come on." He smiled at her. "Let's go back inside."

She followed his lead dazedly, stunned by how forward she had just chosen to be, and how strangely he had just reacted. Did he hear her wrong? Didn't he understand that she had just seriously threatened his marriage? Did he realise that she had just asked him to make love to her? He seemed so nonchalant.

They made their way back up the stairs. The room was dark, lit only by the stub of an old beeswax candle, and Jack was lying sprawled out on the bed, his chest rising and falling placidly with each passing breath. He stirred and sat up slowly, glancing at the couple enquiringly.

"Back so soon, mate?" He asked, his eyes boring into Will accusingly, wondering if Will could either be hailed a genius for getting Aletté to come back with him so quickly, or an idiot for not trying his luck with her.

Aletté pushed through the doorway and plunked herself down onto the bed next to Jack, kicking him a little with her legs. "Shove over."

He rolled onto his front and mumbled into the sheets. "Son, you can take the sofa tonight." Aletté recoiled as Jack's left arm slung across her chest sensually. She heard Will lay down on the couch, and watched his silhouette as it calmed and settled to sleep. 

Will felt unbearably uncomfortable. Having Aletté in his arms, so needy and so willing, had stirred him. He wanted to do with her what she had asked, wanted to make sweet blacksmith love to her. But he couldn't.

She was too beautiful to touch. Any virgin princess of the most secluded, heavenly upbringing seemed low, loose and unclean next to her. He sighed and resigned himself to sleep. Tomorrow he would tell her about Elizabeth- maybe then loving her would be right. Until then, sleep was his only call.

***

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Review Replies:

Elentari II-

Who likes break-ups? Not me. They're so sad and depressing, but this story needed it to be logistically correct- unless you wanted Will to be a sleaze. Which I personally don't want. Yeah, Jack is so full of himself. So full of his adorable self… *giggles* Well, I cant write Meryl in 'til later, but I will. Promise.

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Lizard-

The spelling? Ok then. I talk to myself. In my head. We all do sometimes… I think. Maybe. Ok, I don't know.

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Cecile Li-

Jack's common-law with Morgan and she's carrying his unborn child. He's so sleazy. Yeah, Will's nice… I prefer Jack, but I just wanted to develop this relationship farther. 

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Erin Richards-

Well, its after midnight again. It's one AM. God I have no life. Yeah, no story is complete without adequate bloodshed. Well, I should go to sleep. Wow, we really live close. That's cool.


	8. Elizabeth, Will, and a Very Confused Ale...

A bit of a cliff-hanger, oh, and congrats to Erin on her new story! Very good! VEEEEEEERRRRRRRYYYYYY GOOOOOOOOODDDDD! Gawd, well, it's not midnight! Here we go, new chapter…

***

Aletté and Will gazed at the stately ceiling of the vast entrance hall to the Countyhouse. It's rafters were high, puissant, and lofty, draped in banners of white and green, fluttering slightly with the draft that slipped past the cracks in the stained glass windows. The walls were set with brackets holding brass oil lamps that burned brightly, even thought it was daytime and the windows let in more than enough light. Will whistled, dazed by the baroque styling of the metalwork.

"Something, isn't it?" He murmured to Aletté.

She smiled. "The ballroom should be even nicer- my mother used to tell me that it was her favourite room."

Will glanced at her curiously. "I don't think we have much time to slink around. Where would they be keeping their prisoners in a Countyhouse?"

"The white tower." Aletté replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Mama was kept there by my grandfather when he was trying to force her into marrying a count from another province- he thought that would save face. There's a passageway in through one of the carvings on the wall- mother used that passage to escape with… _my father_." She spoke these last words with slow, dignified resolve. He was her father. In blood. That was all.

"You know a lot of useful information." Will remarked as he followed her beautiful, blue-clad figure through a gilded hallway.

"Bedtime stories." She mumbled, her fingers tracing the carvings on the walls with great concentration. "I needed something to lull me asleep when drunken men were breaking bottles on our door and catcalling mama."

Will felt a surge of pity and compassion. He felt almost guilty when Aletté would tell him about her past- like he should have been there to protect her or something. He felt so guilty, that a change in subject became necessary. "Why are there passageways in the walls?"

"Servants." She remarked, studying a floral carving scrutinizingly. "They are to be out of sight as much as possible. They don't even walk the same hallways as their masters." Her nails dug there way into the centre of a daisy and turned it clockwise slowly. The wooden panel popped open to reveal a dank, narrow passage that looked as if it could barely fit one person abreast. Aletté turned to Will and smiled. "After you."

He peered into the dark hallway tentatively. "Ladies first."

Aletté rolled her eyes and started down the hallway. "Men are such babies." She muttered to herself, then turned around with some difficulty to be sure Will closed over the entranceway. This achieved, they began a tedious, tricky journey of navigating the wood-panelled halls. As both had already deciphered, the route they should take to get to the white tower was painfully obvious- up. Aletté, whose outdated skirts were underlain with two moderately sized panniers, scratched irritatingly against the walls. By the time they reached the end of the passage, the panniers were more squared off by the walls than rounded upturned basket shape they should have been. They stumbled into the tower clumsily and glanced around.

It wasn't much better than the prison. Besides the floor being without the crust of vomit, blood and god-only-knows-what-else, the stone buildings were identical. The round room housed about fifteen people, most of whom were sleeping. Those who had been awake stared in total disbelief at the wall that had just slid open in front of them.

Aletté looked around. "Um, hello…" This was beyond awkward. "I'm looking for Lady Morgan Land- has anyone seen her?" A few people nodded towards the far end of the room, where Aletté spotted a curly, black-haired head lying restfully on an old straw mattress. She made her way over to Morgan's sleeping form, not wanting to wake the resting woman, Will following like a dog at her heels until a little year-old boy toddled over to him cooing "Da da da da da."

Will's face lit up like Aletté had never seen as he scooped his son up in his arms lovingly. "Jacky!" He kissed the boy's forehead lovingly. Aletté sighed, knowing that this loving father would never allow her to bear his children. She puzzled at her thoughts suddenly- since when did Aletté Malycho want _children_? Since when did she even _like_ children?

_I want to carry his children._

She shook off her puzzlement and turned to Morgan, shaking her gently by the shoulder. "Morgan? Morgan?" She stirred a little and opened her eyes.

"Aletté?" She yawned through confusion. "Aletté- how? What?" Her eyes strayed to Will who was cradling his son in his arms. "Will? Is Jack here?"

Aletté smiled. "He's back at the Inn. We're going to get you back home. Who else is here?"

"Amber, Baby Jack." Morgan glanced at Will. "Elizabeth."

At the mention of her name, Will winced slightly and let his eyes travel back to where they had previously rested. The mother of his child- Aletté winced at the thought -was standing in the shadows, watching Will with a cat-like stare. She took a few strides forward and said in a very cold, ceremonial voice, "Good day, Mr. Turner."

Will nodded politely. "Good day, Miss Swann." Baby Jack scampered out of his arms and toddled over to his mother.

Elizabeth scooped him up, her gaze never leaving Will's tawny face. "He missed his daddy." She paused for a moment. "He likes the sea- he always asks to go skiffing with the fishermen. I let him go sometimes." The young boy pawed at his mother's dirty blonde hair. "He has your eyes."

Aletté watched this exchange, more than bewildered. To see Will so distant around Elizabeth was like seeing a scorpion sting itself to death or Jack passing by the whores on the street- it just wasn't natural. Suddenly Elizabeth's enquiring eyes shifted to Aletté, and the latter realized she'd been staring. She dropped her gaze to the floor.

Will quickly took charge. He rounded up all they had come to free- Morgan, Amber, Elizabeth, and Jack, and in a few moments they were all trouping wordlessly through the passageway, Will leading and Aletté bringing up the rear. Very soon the procession reached their destination, and Will suddenly realised that leading a group of scrubby-looking prisoners through an ornate entrance hall would hardly go unnoticed. 

Aletté had already been mulling this over. She slipped out of her dress, leaving herself clad in nothing but a sleeveless under dress, then separated the over-bodice from the petticoats, giving one to Morgan, the other to Elizabeth. Amber's dress, though rumpled, was still clean, so Aletté deduced that, if flanked by the latter two recipients of her butchered gown, would go unnoticed with any luck. Baby Jack was to hide himself in one of the panniers of Elizabeth's skirts.

Once everyone was suitably dressed, Will pried open the wooden panel and watched as Morgan, Elizabeth, Baby Jack, and Amber scuttled out. Then it dawned on him.

"Aletté- how are we getting you out?"

She smiled weakly. "I'll manage by my lonesome, don't worry." Will didn't look convinced. Aletté noticed the worry in his eyes, and almost felt elated for it. _I've got him worried now. That shows he likes me quite a lot._ "I know more about this Countyhouse than King Rico himself, I'll wager. I'll be back before suppertime." And with that, she swung the wooden panel shut and proceeded to thump her head against it in frustration.

_Oh, smart move there Aletté. Make a martyr of yourself. And for what? The wife of the man you love? Hah! Yeah, smart. Now he gets to spend a night with Elizabeth and you get to… sit in a stinky passageway until the random impulse comes to run._

She didn't know much about the Countyhouse at all- how much can one really know of a building they've only been told of? Mother's stories could scarcely help her now- she would just have to run.

_How do the serving maids get out?_

Through the front door.

They're not allowed, though.

They wait until late.

Late is for parties. They don't use the front door. They must have a…

…servant's exit!

She leapt to her feet, new motivation filling her heart. She would be back near Will soon. And then she would ask him just what it was he had been meaning to tell her. She would tell him flat out that she loved him. She would tell him in front of Elizabeth if she had to. The denial was gone.

_I'm in love._

And with this in her mind, she started her search for the servants exit. It seemed nothing could dampen her mood. She had figured out a way to escape the Countyhouse. _Oh I am clever. _She felt as though nothing could stand in her way. Nothing at all…

Except perhaps hand that was now gripping tightly her slender wrist.

***

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Review Replies:

Erin Richards-

He hasn't told her yet… more suspense, a bit of a cliff hanger too. Oh well, what will be will be. "What's done is done." (Macbeth- no, I don't own Shakespeare _either_… lousy disclaimers!) Well, yeah. I loved your story, but I wrote you a really long review, so I wont go into all the details here. But I loved the breasts thingy… Oh Jack, he comes in at the best times. *giggles* 

blueglass25(who just really dislikes logging in, doesn't she?)-

Hehe, Marius is mine! My love… I want Eponine's part. Yeah, Will saving anyone is particularly sweet. *giggles* Oooooooh boy!

Lizard-

I bet Pineapple will like this. Hmmm… well, cant wait to go to the Mandarin on Tuesday! Dreading vocal exam, though… oh well.


	9. Abdication and Aletté's Son

OK, I know you hate cliff-hangers- I do too, but here we go, ANOTHER ONE! Yes, I'm mean, I know. But this was a long, eventful chapter, and I didn't want to mix emotion and action too much, so the next one will be almost purely dialogue and emotional scenes. And I'm almost at the end of this fic now- that was fast! Ok, here goes, hope you don't kill me…

***

She felt as though nothing could stand in her way. Nothing at all…

Except perhaps hand that was now gripping tightly her slender wrist.

Aletté whirled around and turned her fiery stare to a man about the one height with her, maybe a little taller, about double her age with blonde, almost white hair. His eerie blue eyes were fixed on her intensely. She felt numb, frozen under his cold, unforgiving stare.

"Lady Malycho," His voice echoed with a cold sarcasm. "You're the spitting image of your mother." Aletté didn't know what to say. This man knew who she was. "She was beautiful, Katharina Malycho. She was also loose. But then, so are you as I've heard." He was so certain. How did he know her? How did he know her mother? "I'm surprised I wasn't the one to get her in a fix. She had her time with just about every man around here." He knew her…

No. No he didn't. She was _not_ Aletté Malycho. She was not a Malycho at all. She was not Singaporean, nor Spanish. She was not of noble birth. She was not even Aletté. "Pardonne moi?"

"Don't play silly with me, you little slut." He scowled and wrenched her closer to him by the wrist so that his breath was icing her face with condensation. "I know who you are- I know what you're here for. Your friends were good enough to blab about you- good bait, they are. And that gent you were with-" He snickered. "-well, he got you out of your dress fast enough." Aletté glanced down at her sleeveless slip and blushed slightly. "_Ah_," The man cooed. "so you _do_ understand me?" He jerked on her wrist, dragging her out of the passage into the hall. "Come on now, don't fuss. We don't want to keep Madeira waiting."

**A/N: **refer to the prologue- Madeira and Devante were the two people who put the price on Aletté's head- the opposing forces, get it?****

Aletté struggled against him, wrenching her wrist free of his hand. She turned on her heel and made to run, but instead crashed right into the hard, unmoving chest of what she assumed to be one of the man's goons. She fell backwards onto the floor, keeping her upper-body from striking the hard marble floor by propping herself up on her elbows. Her body shuddered in pain.

Her captor strode in front of her haughtily. "Devante deMalpien at your service, my lady, and you at mine whether you agree or not. Now come with me, and please, not another outburst. You shame your house even more than your mother did, _Lady_ Malycho." He smiled sardonically and turned away, striding confidently down the hallway.

Aletté was pulled to her feet by two of the goons and very literally dragged down the hall after him. They pushed her into an ornate, white and gilded room where Devante was sprawled heedlessly across a green velvet chaise, while a dark, lithe, enchanting woman with raven hair, true Spanish curves, dark eyes and pale skin stood in the corner pursing her scarlet lips, a piece of important-looking parchment clasped between her claw-like fingers. Devante stood up as Aletté entered, motioning for the woman to come forward.

The woman brought the paper to a desk that lay next to Devante's chaise, drawing out a quill and a vial of black ink from the drawer. She beckoned to Aletté. Aletté hesitated, then took a few timid steps forward, so that she was right in front of the desk.

Devante smiled at the pale, dark-haired woman. "Thank you, Madeira." He turned to Aletté. "Miss Malycho, are you aware of the inheritance that ran under your mother's name?" Aletté nodded confidently, but Devante ignored her affirmation and continued as if she had pleaded for details. "It is much more than just the Countyhouse and the reign over Sierrbo- its is far more elaborate than that." He paused, his pale blue eyes flashing dramatically. "Your bloodline stands to inherit the entire empire. To be queen of Spain- does that surprise you?"

Aletté stood for a moment, stunned. Yes, it surprised her to know it was that large an inheritance. She had suspected her blood could claim the title of countess- but queen? Surely mother would have told her if she stood to inherit queenship! She paused and pasted on a confidant smile. "Not in the least. I've known all along."

"Have you?" Madeira spoke. "Aren't we all so very confidant. Just like her mother, except I never had the pleasure of killing _her_. So you know what you stand to inherit? Well, in that case, breathe your last." She motioned to one of the goons, who came forward, a carbine clutched in his sweaty hands. "Goodbye, Katharina."

Aletté recognized her mother's name, and realised that Madeira must have known Katharina Malycho in her youth. The carbine was raised to her head, and suddenly Aletté had an idea. "Wait!" She cried. "Wait- cant… cant I just sign an abdication form or something?"

Devante smiled. "Ah, the girl learns!" He took the paper from the desk and waved it under Aletté's nose. "_Sign it_!"

Aletté took it slowly, and the carbine was lowered from her head. Her eyes scanned it quickly. Seeing nothing to her dislike, (signing away the rights to the throne from herself and her offspring) she picked up the quill, dipped it in the ink, and poised it above the paper. Then a terrible thought occurred to her. _They hated my mother- they'll kill me regardless… _

No. No, they wont kill me until I sign away the rights of my children.

You don't have any children.

They don't know that.

"I wont." She said flatly.

"What?" Madeira hissed.

"I wont sign it." The carbine clicked from behind her. "Go, ahead- kill me. Good luck finding my son."

Devante and Madeira glanced at each other nervously. "She's lying." Devante whispered confidently. "She has no son."

"His name is Jack Turner." Aletté said loudly. "He's one year old, he likes the sea. He calls me 'Lettie' and loves to go skiffing. He has his daddy's eyes." Would they buy it? Did it matter? How bad could dying be?

Devante snorted. "I had a feeling this would happen. So what now, Katharina?" He called her by her mother's name a lot. _Old grudges die hard_. "We kill you, and we gain nothing. But we keep you alive and still we gain nothing- well, here's our bargaining chip. Not your life, but your friend's." He motioned with his hand and Will was dragged through the door, bound, gagged, and held back by three men. 

Aletté stared. "Will!" She shouted. He looked at her sympathetically but could say nothing through his gag.

"We thought he'd come back for you." Devante continued. "They all did, actually. And every one we have in our keeping. This one seemed of especial interest to you back in the passageway- we though he'd be a nice little _motivational tool_, don't you think?" Aletté scowled at Devante furiously. "So now what, my lady? You have your choice- sign the form, or watch the your friend here bleed to death at your feet." Aletté could barely speak. "Katharina?" He prompted. "We're waiting."

"Alright." She chocked finally. "I'll sign it."

Madeira smiled. "Not quite as stubborn as Katharina was. Good girl." She handed her the paper and quill. Aletté took the inky pen and scrawled, on the elaborate, interlocking line, the name _Aletté Katharina Malycho._

Devante snatched the paper from her and surveyed it scrutinizingly. A smiled crossed his thin, detestable lips and he placed it back on the desk. "You're a fool, Katharina. Just like your mother before you." Aletté fought back the urge to jump up and squeeze life out of his bony little neck. "Now, Katharina, this _is_ goodbye."

The man with the carbine once again clicked it into readiness. Aletté closed her eyes and waited for the shot. She could hear Will struggling to get free from the far end of the room. _I have to tell him, _she thought. _I have to come clean. He has to know I love him. I need him to know. I love him. I love him so much…_

She opened her mouth to speak, when suddenly the door creaked again, announcing another entrance. Her eyes flew open. A frail-looking old man with long white hair was slowly hobbling into the room, accompanied by two official-looking sentries, their uniforms shining with newness, decorated with medals of rank and honour. Devante and Madeira stood up straight, looking very self-conscious.

"Ah," Madeira cooed, though anyone with ears could detect the falseness of her greeting. "King Rico, your majesty, welcome to our study." She smiled weakly.

The king looked around sceptically. "Eh, oh, Devante?" He said in a sarcastic voice that seemed much to youthful to be coming from his wrinkled old form. "Why is that man tied up?" He motioned to Will. "And what in the name of God is your man doing with a drawn carbine? And-" He stopped, his gaze fixed on Aletté. A smile spread across his face, mixing with a look of shock and thanksgiving. "Heavenly love! Why, if my eyes do not deceive me, it is the Princess Katharina risen from the dead." He paused. "Something different about you, though…"

Aletté rose and then dropped to one knee before the king. She glanced up at him from her stance so low to the ground. "My King, I am Aletté Malycho, daughter of the late Princess Katharina, and I come to beg the pardon on my bloodline."

He smiled and held out an old, weathered hand to her, drawing her up to her full height. "My dear Lady Malycho, you are most welcome here." A frown furrowed on his brows. "I hope my nephew didn't give you and trouble?"

Aletté smiled graciously. "I think, your majesty, that you had best not allow your nephew around fire arms in future."

Rico laughed a warm, youthful laugh, then turned with a more sombre face to his sentries. Aletté was surprised to see that another eight of them had congregated, now outnumbering Devante and his goons two-to-one. "My loyal men," Rico said. "be good chaps and take my nephew, his wife, and their men to the white tower. You may clear out the Peridio prisoners- cant say I condoned him keeping them detained in the first place, though," he turned to Aletté. "nobody tells me anything these days." Devante, Madeira, and their men were quickly swept from the room by the sentries, Rico calling after them, "See to it that the servants exit is closed off!"

Aletté finally regained her senses and took a glance at Will to be sure he was fine. Two of the remaining four sentries were helping him undo the bonds and gag. She turned back to the king, who looked upon her, beaming like a father who has found his long-lost daughter.

"Katharina," He sighed. "Or- Aletté, was it?" She nodded. "Well, we must prepare a coronation! To think, you'd been growing up to be as beautiful and gracious as your mother, and yet nobody believed me when I said you would return. Nobody! Imagine that!" He laughed.

"Your majesty," Aletté began, "with all due respect, I cannot become Spain's queen."

Rico frowned. "Why ever not?"

She bowed her head a little. "Devante had me sign an abdication document just moments before you came in. My blood is but a peasant's now."

He raised her chin up with one grey old hand and smiled. "You do not think I would discard the daughter of the most beautiful, kind, astounding, intelligent woman this court has ever seen?" Aletté smiled, embarrassed and a little confused. First her mother was a whore, now she was astounding and kind? "You may not be our queen, but you shall be a courtier. You shall live in a private wing of the palace- have your own household. Perhaps you will marry- what a party that would be- do you know, I'm quite fond of parties?" Aletté thought that this must be what a real father is like. "You shall have whatever you desire- tell me, anything?"

Aletté thought for a moment. "I wish for you to release my friends- all of them, save for the lady Elizabeth Turner and her child. Keep them here for the present time. And I wish to speak with Will." She nodded to where he stood watching, then remembering her formalities, "Um, I mean Mr. William Turner. I wish to speak with him now. Alone."

Rico nodded and left the room quietly with his sentries. Will strode over to her questioningly. Aletté braced herself for what she was about to do. This would not be easy. But it was the right thing to do.

She took a deep breath and began…

***

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Review Replies:

Cecile Li-

Sorry to torture you… again! But just wait- next chapter I PROMISE! Please review, and thanks for reviewing!

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blueglass25-

Wow! I got a signed review from you! I feel honoured! Woo-hoo! Eponine has all the best song with beautiful Marius… *giggles* Well, here, I'm updating right now, so that's pretty fast- eh? Glad you (sort of) like the cliff-hanger.

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Erin Richards-

PLEASE UPDATE YOUR STORY SOON! IT'S THE BEST THING ON THE SITE! Oh wow, I held down the shift button for that entire time. Could've just stuck the Caps Lock on… oh well, whatever. Yeah, cliff-hangers are very cliff-hang-y. Hehehe. Well, thanks for reviewing, and update soon. And please don't hate me for two cliff-hangers in a row!

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PLEASE REVIEW- I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER! (DEARLY NOT QUEERLY) 

-SQ


	10. Admissions of Love

OK, you're going to hate me for this but here's another cliff-hanger… sort of. Well, I don't know, I'll let you decide for yourselves. Not much to say- I have my last exam tomorrow! Yay! Then me and my friends are going partying at a Chinese restaurant. All-you-can-eat buffets kick ass.

Well, you probably don't care, so as I've said so many times before…

…ON WITH THE SHOW!

***

Will strode over to her questioningly. Aletté braced herself for what she was about to do. This would not be easy. But it was the right thing to do.

She took a deep breath and began…

"Will?" She avoided his eyes. 

"Why didn't you release Elizabeth? And my son- what's this about?" He tilted her chin up slightly with his thumb and forefinger, gazing into her starry turquoise eyes. "Aletté?"

She sighed. "Will, I'll let your wife and son go, but I want you to promise me something first." 

He nodded. "Anything."

"I want you to leave here with Elizabeth and Jack and never come back." This hurt more than anything. Hurt more than losing her purity to a man who thought of her as just another whore-of-the-night. Hurt more than losing her mother to consumption when she was only fourteen. Hurt more than pain itself. "I want you to promise you'll never write me again, never contact me again. I want this to be our severance." She turned away so that he wouldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Aletté-" Was this ever a blindside. Never see her again? "What are you saying?" He couldn't sever ties with her- he couldn't see a future without her!

Aletté felt slighted. "What do you mean _what am I saying_? I mean _go_- get out of my life!" She waved her hands angrily.

"Aletté," Will started, "I cant just leave you-"

"It's not like it was that hard for you before!"

"I _never_ left you- _you_ left _me_!" He had to tell her about him and Elizabeth- she had to know. She needed to know that he _did_ care, that he _did_ love her.

"You as good as left me!" She snapped, rounding on him, waving her arms heatedly. "You lead me on- you pretended that you loved me, you acted like you cared! And I- like the fool I was- I _believed_ you! I thought that I _was_ loved, that I _was_ beautiful like you said! And then you pulled the '_I have an obligation to my family' _card on me- do you know how much I _hate_ Elizabeth now? Do you know how much that made me hate your son? Your family? And I wanted to hate you, too, but _no_! No, I couldn't _hate_ you, I had to fall _in love _with you! And now- now I'm slipping back into that state again. I'm falling back in love again- and I cant take that! Not again! So I want you to go." She finished, gasping for breath after the heated spiel she had just given him.

Will stared at her, and suddenly he knew, knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that this was the woman he did _not_ want to spend the rest of his life with, but even more, he did not want to spend the rest of his life _without_. She drove him up the wall. She was so stubborn he felt like grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a good shake. 

And he did.

He took her by the shoulders, but he did not shake her. Instead, he brought her face to his swiftly and let his lips trace hers. Roughly.

Aletté did not move. This was so… not like Will. At all. He wasn't soft, or gentle. He wasn't slow or subtle. He was rough, he was impulsive, and somehow it felt… right. She began to kiss him back. Her arms found their way around his neck. His hair was so soft between her fingers. His hands moved from her shoulders to her back, and she felt him draw their bodies closer together. Instinctively, she pulled her hips up against his.

When they finally drew apart, Aletté stared at him wide-eyed. He answered this stare as best he could. "Ten months ago, Elizabeth and I had a falling-out. She didn't like the amount of time I was spending at sea. She's betrothed again. I've been trying to tell you- you just don't listen. You're stubborn and headstrong and you don't listen to anyone- you keep presuming things! Aletté, you're the hardest thing in the world to love."

Aletté felt like she had reached the surface after being under water her entire life.

_He loves me._

She swallowed a lump in her throat. "You love me?" He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment, not saying anything. "Will?" Silence. "Oh Jesus, Will, say _something_!"

Will smiled. "I want to tell you I've loved you since the day I met you,"

She frowned. "But?"

"But…" He reached up to caress her cheek gently. Her skin was so soft. "But I would be lying. I didn't love you- I didn't mind you at first meeting. And then slowly, very slowly, you started to bother me more-" Aletté didn't understand this. "-I cant stand you! I cant stand being around you- you _exasperate_ me… and I love you for it."

She laughed. "You don't make any sense, Will Turner." He smiled. "You're the only man who ever treated my like something more than a toy, you know that?" She returned his smile weakly. "I love you, Will. I've never loved anything. But you… Oh God, Will, tell me you love me too! Please…?"

She felt herself swept up into his arms again, his lips tracing their way down her neck. "I love you." He said, though his voice was muffled by her shoulder where his lips were trailing mercilessly. She smiled and buried her face in his wavy brown hair. He smelled like salt and love. She giggled at the thought. How does one manage to smell of love?

Will pulled back suddenly, smiling. "So you don't despise me anymore, Aletté?"

She laughed. "I never did."

Will's face lit up and he lifted her slender figure off of the ground and twirled her around by the waist. "You're amazing, Aletté." He let her feet touch back down onto the smooth marble floors. "You're beautiful."

"Oh where have I heard that before?" A cool, scathing voice interjected. The pair of them spun around to discern the speaker. 

Elizabeth was standing in the doorway.

***

Review Replies:

Cecile Li-

Don't worry- there can be more yet! There are still complications to sort out! Glad you're liking this!


	11. The Rain Can't Hurt Me Now

Wow, you guys really love getting regular updates. Oh well, I suppose I would too. Exams are over! Yay! *happy dance* Well, this chapter is done, but it took me a good while. Its pretty long, though, so I guess I'm off the hook. *shrugs* Oh, and sorry in advance to all the die-hard Will fans here, but you'll have to put up with my Morgan/Jack innuendos in this chapter- couldn't resist putting a little Jack in me… uh, I mean… in here… uh, right, scratch that. My sick jokes should just stay in my mind. Ok, here we go…

Oh, by the way, to either **Homestar's Girl **or **Lizard**, there is indeed the one true pick-up line in here- the second-last line of the chapter. I just had to… it was so tempting.

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And on one final note, tell me if you think I should up the rating to R now. I'm bad at choosing ratings. Anyways, please and thank you to reviewers!

***

Will's face lit up and he lifted her slender figure off of the ground and twirled her around by the waist. "You're amazing, Aletté." He let her feet touch back down onto the smooth marble floors. "You're beautiful."

"Oh where have I heard that before?" A cool, scathing voice interjected. The pair of them spun around to discern the speaker. 

Elizabeth was standing in the doorway.

Will's lighted face seemed to darken a little. Aletté however, much to her own surprise, felt no resentment towards the woman who stood observing them with her cold stare and merciless eyes. _He loves me, _she thought. _That's all I need to know. _For Will, though, the situation was not quite as simple. Yes, he loved Aletté. He knew that most assuredly. But the fact remained that Elizabeth was the mother of his son- something he couldn't change, even if he'd wanted to.

"Good evening, Elizabeth." He said, trying to sound warm though still sounding formal despite his efforts.

"It's Miss Swann!" She snapped. Her eyes turned their bone-chilling attention to Aletté, almost staring right through her. Aletté trembled and looked at her feet. Elizabeth turned back to Will. "I wonder how I'm going to explain this to your son."

Will glanced up at her questioningly. "You didn't have much trouble in explaining your betrothal."

"That's different." She justified, taking a few heated steps into the room. "Captain Jacobs wasn't Jacky's nursemaid. It's not like I knew him _before _now." She turned her attention to a quivering Aletté. "Whatever flattery and slander he's been feeding you, I'd advise you not to buy it. He'll save your life, oh _yes_, but he wont have the human _decency_ to stay by your side!" She stamped her foot.

Aletté looked up and said, in a very quiet voice, "I can choose men for myself."

"So much you know." Elizabeth muttered sarcastically.

"What?" Aletté hissed.

Will winced. "Not good." Any confrontation between two such feisty women was bound to end badly. 

"I said-" Elizabeth spun on her heel to face the slender girl. "-what do _you_ know about men? You- _you_!" She laughed maliciously in her throat. "You the sheltered nursemaid! What have _you_ ever been through? How much do _you_ know?"

Will could feel Aletté's anger hanging in a thick fog around her. This would be bad. Very bad. "Oh _not_ good!"

"What do you mean _what have I been through_? What do you _think_ I had to do to earn a living in Singapore? What do you _think_?" She clenched her fists tightly. A look of utter abhorrence crossed Elizabeth's face. "This is the first _decent_ thing that's ever happened to me!" Aletté noticed the disgust that was plainly visible on the other woman's face. "Oh _fantastic_! You- you think I'm _unclean_ too now don't you? _Ugh_! _You_- you pig-headed, arrogant aristocratic fools!" She turned and ran from the room, making her way out onto the balcony. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon now, and the stars had come out over the rolling hillside of Sierrbo. The cool midsummer breeze was soothing on her warm cheeks. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"It's quite a sight, isn't it?" Aletté turned around. King Rico was standing on the balcony a few feet down. She blushed, realising this wasn't exactly a private area. Rico did not see her embarrassment in the darkness. "I do love Sierrbo. It makes Madrid look like a foul settlement of swindlers and busybodies." Aletté laughed. "It's so quiet here at night."

She nodded. "It's lovely. Much nicer than Singapore, though I haven't travelled all that extensively."

Rico shook his head. "It is not in the number of comparisons we make that we find a true fit. It is by what brings rest to our souls."

"Some souls are not looking for rest." Aletté murmured, forgetting that she was talking to a king, feeling more like he was an old friend.

"Like yours, Katharina?" Her mother's name again.

She nodded. "Like mine." She paused. "Why did I stand to inherit the throne- you're not my grandfather, are you?"

Rico chuckled. "Heavenly love, no. No, I am… well, I suppose I am your great uncle. I had two brothers, one of them was your grandfather. The other- the youngest- married a Portuguese princess who had a son from a previous marriage. I believe you've already met him- Devante deMalpien. He's no true nephew of mine- thank the Gods! But he _is _of royal blood by more than marriage- he was next in line to the throne after Katharina. Dear, dear Katharina- she was quite fond of parties also. She was such a bright child…" He closed his eyes and reminisced.

"But I thought my mother was disowned." Aletté said. "If she was disowned she wouldn't be able to claim the throne, would she?"

"Disowned?" Rico scoffed. "Not in my kingdom! No niece of mine will ever be disowned- not in my dynasty!" He sighed. "If only I had had children of my own… but no matter. I suppose the crown will have to be appointed when I pass into slumber, now that you have abdicated and Devante stripped of his title- I never liked that fellow, did you?"

Aletté shrugged. "I didn't really get a chance to meet him away from… awkward circumstances." Rico laughed at her wording.

Will made his way out onto the balcony, catching Rico's attentive green eyes. The boy intrigued him, to say the least. If anything, he wondered at the nature of his relationship to Rico's great niece. As Will paced further from the room from which he had come, Aletté smiled weakly at him. "What did Elizabeth say?"

He sighed. "She's going back to Peridio with Jack's crew in two days. She's taking my son- our son with her. She doesn't want to stay here longer than she has to. She says Jacky needs to be raised in a more nurturing milieu."

Aletté suddenly felt so… guilty. Will needed to be there for his son- that was his first duty. "Will," she began, "if you want to go with them I'll understand."

He glanced at her timidly. "I don't want to leave you."

She pasted on a smile. "It wouldn't be forever. Besides, I'll be more than occupied here. New home, new family. I can wait for you."

Will turned away and looked up at the stars. "This is the first time in my life that I have had absolutely no idea what to do."

Aletté placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just do what's in your heart." In the background, Rico slowly tottered away, smiling to himself.

Will turned back to her and touched her cheek. "I don't know about that- you know, you're the only thing that's in my heart right now."

She laughed. "Follow your head then."

"My head says I should go where my son goes."

"Then do." She didn't feel like she was losing him this time. "I want you to be a good father- better than mine, at least." A laugh escaped her lips. "Jacky needs you right now- I can wait. When he's older, you can bring him here sometimes. I'll be waiting for you."

Will couldn't express how indebted to her he felt at that moment. "I love you, Aletté." A lone tear spilled out from her eye and danced its way down her cheek. "Oh God, Aletté, please don't cry." He swept her up into his arms, burying his nose in her straight blonde hair. 

She smiled to herself. "I'm not crying because I'm sad, Will." His fingers traced their way up and down her back. She pulled out of his embrace reluctantly. "Now go help Jack prepare for the return journey."

"You'll be alright alone?" He asked.

"I'll manage by my lonesome." She smiled and watched as he left the room. Then she added to herself, "I have for ten years now." She strolled out onto the balcony and felt a few raindrops as they fell from the heavens. More and more joined them, until Aletté was soaked to the bone. And yet her mood was not in the least bit dampened.

_He loves me._

She felt so amazing, so full of life. She felt immortal.

_The rain cant hurt me now._

***

Morgan stood on deck next to Jack, watching him bellow out orders to his crew. She smiled, placing a hand on her still-small abdomen. Being only three months into her pregnancy, nothing but morning sickness plagued her. She was thankful to be back with Jack… back were she felt safe.

He turned to her and smiled. "Care to come indoors, luv?" She nodded, laughing as he winked and lead her down the steps, through the doors and into a dimly-lit, messy room. The moment she turned around, his arms were around her, his mouth tantalizingly close to hers. "Mmm…" Jack mumbled. "I've missed you, Morgan darling."

He kissed her hungrily, his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth. She responded almost immediately and nibbled at his lower lip, hearing him groan into her mouth. His lips left hers and traveled farther down to the place between her shoulder and her neck, where they paused to suck and tease the skin there. She moaned.

"Liked that, didn't you?" He smiled and leaned her back against the table, spilling papers onto the already-messy floor. They kissed again, Morgan's hands massaging the back of Jack's neck and toying with his beads. He moved further down her body, stopping when he came to her abdomen. He kissed her lightly there, but this one playful, almost innocent touch of his lips to her skin sent an achy tremor coursing through her body.

"Oh for God's sake, Jack-" She pulled his mouth back up to hers and let her tongue explore his own. He groaned.

"Now, luv, you don't want to get me started, or I wont be able to stop." He whispered in her ear when she finally desisted her persistent delving into his mouth.

Morgan rolled her eyes. "Jack," She gasped, "pants off. Now."

She didn't have to tell him twice.

***

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Review Replies:

Erin Richards-

I needed an eccentric character. I figured King Rico would fit the bill. Uh, Aletté just said baby Jack was her son so they wouldn't kill her. Hope that was clear. Sorry, I can be a little vague sometimes. Please get to work on your fic ASAP- I love it! (dearly not queerly- hahaha… boohoo, that was lame!)

-SQ

blueglass25- (who must really hate logging in)

Wow- favourite fic? I'm so flattered! You rule- thanks for all the reviews. Let me know if you ever want me to review one of your stories. And sorry Aletté cant be queen. *mutters* Stupid abdication form…

-SQ

untypical-

Sorry about the cliff-hangers… really, I am. But I couldn't write just one giant chapter- where's the fun in that? Well, glad you liked the plot twistiness…The Morgan/Jack thing was a bit out of place, but I love Jack. *blushes* I couldn't resist. Rico is Aletté's great uncle- hope I cleared that up in this chapter!

-SQ

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**A note for Elentari II**

I'm not sure if I can get Meryl into this, but I'll try- really I will! She's a cool character and I want to write her in, but I'm not sure if I can without interrupting the flow of the story too much. Just letting you know that I'll try.

-SQ

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PLEASE REVIEW!

-SQ


	12. Epilogue

It seems a lot of you thought that my last chapter was the end- what a crappy ending that would be! Here we go, this is the ending. It's meant to be a bit of a tear-jerker, but I'm bad at writing sad stuff, so just please review and tell me what you thought of it.

Oh, and thanks to all of you for reading thus far. If you want, you might also read one of the back stories to this- but only if you want. All my PotC stories are connected (for now) so please read and review if you want. Thanks again.

There will be no review replies this chapter.

***

It was a drizzly day when Jack chose to set sail for the return journey. The crew loaded themselves and their provisions onboard, gathered their passengers, managed to get their captain sober enough to steer, and were ready to cast off, when they were finally informed by a winded little page from the Countyhouse that First Mate Turner would be just a quarter-hour late. It was this instance, and only this instance, when Jack decided to wave the usual protocol of "he who falls behind is left behind" and wait the short time it took Will to do what Jack naturally assumed he was doing- impregnating Aletté.

Not surprisingly, Jack was wrong.

Will stood on the terrace of Aletté's apartments, his hands clasping hers tenderly. Around them, the great tumbling terracotta pitchers were slick with rainfall, their plants spewing out with leaves of a dark, waxy green. Little blades of grass sprung up between the cracks in the stone slate floor. Aletté's apartments were old, worn, and yet somehow she loved them for it. Every crack in the stone, every vase that has tumbled its vines to the ground, every tree with a knotty trunk just added to the character of the place, like an ancient, beautiful ruin. 

Will smiled weakly at her through his rain-soaked brown hair. Their last few days together had been damp and drizzly, but neither of them seemed to mind. They had each other- for now, at least.

Aletté brushed Will's sopping hair out of his eyes and pasted on a smile. "You should go."

He sighed. "You're sure you'll be alright?"

"Don't worry about me." Aletté soothed, a bit of that usual feisty gleam burning in her surreally bright eyes. "I'm a big girl now. I dress myself in the mornings and everything!" A little laughter danced its way into her voice. "I'll manage." She fixed her eyes on his with a more serious stare. "You should be worrying about your son." Her hands pulled out of his. "Go on. I'll be right here waiting."

"I'm coming back." Will assured her. "Jack says we'll be able to make the journey on the September winds. That's only three months- oh who am I kidding- three months is far too long! Oh Aletté, I'm sorry-"

"Will!" She laughed. "It's fine. You're coming back. That's all I need to know."

"I love you, Aletté." Will bowed away to leave, then paused mid-stride. There was one more thing he had to do. He turned back around and swept Aletté up into his arms, kissing her hungrily. Her heart gave a great wrench in her chest, and she broke the kiss before the tears came. As he pulled away, she felt something smooth and cold slide it's way onto her left ring finger. Will bowed to her again. "Goodbye, Lady Malycho."

And with that, he was off, striding away down the wet ceramic steps of the terrace, finally disappearing into the muddy, winding streets of Sierrbo. Aletté stood there for a long time, feet planted firmly on the ground, eyes locked on the ship that was slowly drifting out of the bay. She couldn't help wanting to cry, though she knew he would be returning soon.

_He said he would come back._

She smiled through her tears, through the raindrops, and watched as her last glimpse of the tall, wet sails disappeared behind the peninsula.

_He said he would come back._

All sense was telling her to go inside, out of the rain, though such a thing seemed almost a faded dream to Aletté. All she wanted to do was stand on the green, sprawling terrace and wait for his return. It was as if by not moving at all, perhaps he would return sooner.

_He said he would come back._

She finally yielded and took shelter indoors, stripping off her drenched jacket and pulling closed a crushed velvet curtain, that she might change into a warmer, dryer outfit. Suddenly the ring Will had placed on her hand caught her eye. She held her hand up closer to her face and studied it carefully. It was a plain, cool silver band that glistened icily in the dim light that was now peeking through the dense rain clouds.

_He said he would come back._

She closed her eyes and brought the ring to her chest, willing God to deliver her heart's message to her love.

Out at sea, Will paused a moment as Aletté's voice echoed quietly in his head.

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

-Fin


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